War of the Crests I: Light
by NerdTypeZ
Summary: History tells us that peace cannot last. Four years following the defeat of MaloMyotismon, the digidestined will face this truth. And though Light has always triumphed over Shadow, can it overcome itself?
1. Prologue: Honor

Welcome everyone! As I stated in Second Light and Ages, this is my REDUX version of War of the Crests, beginning with part 1: Light. There are a few things I should say before I go on. First of all, this story does take place post-final battle with MaloMyotismon in Digimon Adventure 02, and I have changed the canon a small bit. The only difference I present is that, unlike the original canon, digimon were NOT revealed to the world following the Million Points of Light episode and, for the most part, the entire event (darkness coating the world, millions of people pointing their digivices at the sky) has been written off as a natural phenomenon and a strange publicity stunt. A cover-up, essentially what would actually happen if our world experienced the same problem.

Just keep that in mind when you read, so you don't ask questions like "Why doesn't _ know that _ is a digidestined?" or "Why is _ hiding their digimon?" I decided to negate the "everyone knows about digimon" bit in order to keep the mystery and tension that surrounds the digidestined which I so enjoyed in the shows.

Thanks for sticking around and reading my boring author's note. I hope you enjoy the story.

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><p>War of the Crests<p>

Part 1: Light

-Prologue: Honor-

_The digital world is a strange place, made stranger by its history. No one knows rightly how the digital world was created any longer. There are theories, of course, just as there are theories for everything. Some believe it was created in a manner not dissimilar to other universes: namely a Big Bang of expanding particles and energy that slowly coalesced and condensed into the world we know today. Others believe that it was Yggdrasil, god of the digital world who created it. Were he still present, I suppose we could ask him. Lacking that presence, however, we can only surmise and guess. The world's creation, however, is of little consequence, for in the history of the thing in its current form is of much more interest than any mystery surrounding its birth._

_Not long after the digital world's creation, Digimon rose to power as the dominant species of the world. Like any species, they began simply enough, dividing themselves by appearance into Men and Beasts. The man digimon thought themselves superior, and the beast digimon had a reciprocal feeling. And so, like with any intelligence which divides itself, they went to war. Each group considered themselves the greater, and their battle cost many lives until Lucemon, the great angel digimon, helped the two sides come to compromise and, eventually, peace. In peace, he was considered Sovereign and ruler of the digital world. Peace cannot last, however, and soon enough a group of digimon, to be known later as the Ten Legendary Warriors, learned that Lucemon the Compromiser—Lucemon the Peace Keeper—was in fact Lucemon the Instigator. He was the one who began the Great War, and used it to place himself on high. News of this spread throughout the digital world, and a new war began. The Ten Legendary Warriors who discovered his threat fought the dark angel, but his time as Sovereign left him too powerful and they were unable to destroy him. In an act of desperation, they instead lured him to another universe: the dark area, and sacrificed their own lives to place a seal on the digital world and the dark area that he could never again threaten their people._

_To honor their sacrifice, Yggdrasil appointed three angel digimon: Seraphimon, Ophanimon and Cherubimon to maintain the seal, and spread the power of the Ten Legendary Warriors throughout the digital world as spirits. During their tenure, Seraphimon fell ill to an unknown disease. Ophanimon's constant care for him drove Cherubimon to jealousy, and into the arms of the entrapped Lucemon, who corrupted the angel and set him upon his allies. He slew them both, but not before Ophanimon could call out to another world for aid. Her call was answered when five human children entered the digital world to fight Cherubimon, while a sixth fell under his rule._

_These were the first digidestined. They wielded the spirits of the Ten Legendary Warriors as weapons, transforming into digimon to fell the fallen angel. Following Cherubimon's death, however, the seal on the digital world was shattered, and Lucemon made his return. Together, the digidestined were able to reveal his true form and defeat him once and for all._

_The seal on the digital world remained broken, and many came and went. Humans, in particular, found the digital world intriguing, and several made their way on expeditions to learn about its unknown frontiers. Yggdrasil watched closely with a cautious eye as these humans traversed his domain._

_Daemon, a dark digimon of unknown origin, rose to power during this time, recruiting for himself humans that could control digimon and use them to fight. One human fought against him, though, alongside a digimon friend. Through perseverance and ambition, they together overcame these dark digidestined and their demonic master with the power of the digital world's greatest treasure, the Digimental._

_As time passed, more humans entered the digital world, whether through accident or purpose. One such human sought to unleash the power of Belphemon, cousin of Lucemon, upon both his and the digital world. A second set of digidestined was called to once again defend the digital planes, fighting alongside their digimon, and though they succeeded, Yggdrasil himself rose up against them in opposition. He had seen the destruction of human curiosity too many times, and would not let it destroy further. These digidestined fought him and overcame his power, killing the god and guardian of the digital world. _

_With the death of Yggdrasil, power ran rampant throughout the digital world. His untamed might wreaked havoc and chaos, bringing forth horrific creations such as the Dark Ocean and Millenniumon. It also gave rise to a race of humanoid beings known as the Immortals. Together, four of the Immortals swore to rein in the loose power of Yggdrasil, and so they took it into themselves, becoming the Scions of Yggdrasil. The first was the Watcher, whose title I now hold, who literally watched over the state of the world, sensing chaos and inconsistency. The second was the Guardian, whose power allowed him the detection of any darkness or evil that permeated the fragile fabric of the digital world. The third was the Scribe, who took on Yggdrasil's god-like sight into the future. The final was known as the Smith. His job was the creation and transformation of objects of power within the digital world. Together, they appointed four digimon, whom gained the title of Sovereign, previously bestowed only to Lucemon, to uphold the digital world's seal, that no evil could enter from outside. They also took the power of the Ten Legendary Warriors, and with the Smith's capabilities, forged ten crests of power: Courage, Friendship, Love, Knowledge, Sincerity, Reliability, Hope, Kindness, Honor, and Virtue._

_Yet chaos still reigned the digital world, remnants of Yggdrasil's true power over space and time. Warriors whose timelines should not have crossed fought alongside each other, and the world itself threatened war. So the Scions reigned in this power as well, forging three divine crests, crests which held the very power of Yggdrasil himself: those of Light, Miracles and Ages._

_It would not be long before another darkness took hold of the digital world, one borne of the chaos wreaked by Yggdrasil's unleashed power. Four dark digimon created in the protean cataclysm, known as the Dark Masters, rose, deposing the Sovereigns and taking their places. They watched and sent forth their minion, Devimon, to wreak havoc and turn the world against itself. At this point, I had assumed the duties of Watcher, and I stole seven eggs and called seven humans to the digital world to once again fight to defend it. These new digidestined fought valiantly, defeating Devimon. The influence of the Dark Masters, however, kept them from returning home, and they were forced to wander the digital world, confronting another chaos-born digimon, Etemon. To defeat this foe, the Scions scattered seven of the ten Legendary crests and allowed the digidestined to find them. With their power, the digidestined were able to overcome Etemon and Myotismon, a digimon whose evil was not borne of Yggdrasil's chaos, but rather chose to bide his time since his birth, seeking a way out of the digital world and into the world of humans. For a brief time, the digidestined even returned home during their journey, bypassing the power of the Dark Masters. Soon enough, however, they were forced to return to a twisted, horrific digital world, now run by the Dark Masters themselves. Through cooperation, teamwork, and their newfound power in the crests of the Ten Legendary Warriors, they overcame their foes and faced Apocalymon, the ultimate creation born of Yggdrasil's death._

_The digital world was once more at peace, but the Scions would take no chances. I, myself, asked the digidestined to sacrifice the power of their crests in order to restore the seal on the digital world until the Sovereigns returned to power. They agreed, and with that, the last of the chaos wrought by the god Yggdrasil's death was purged from the digital world._

_But some yet remained in the world of humans. A young boy whom previously fought against the forces of Millenniumon years before the most recent set of digidestined, had been implanted with the last remnant of chaos: a dark spore. Through its influence, he journeyed to the digital world and came to rule over it as the Digimon Emperor. Three new digidestined, as well as two from the previous generation whom had grown over the years, joined in the battle against the emperor, and with the divine power of Miracles, overcame the Emperor, who in turn joined them, wielding the crest of Kindness._

_Ever the patient tactician, Myotismon took this moment to return, possessing a human by the name of Oikawa and using him to resurface and dominate both the digital world and the human world. The digidestined, with the new addition of the former Digimon Emperor, fought and defeated him only through the aid of humanity. A million points of light shone from the human and digital world, and the darkness was finally overcome._

_It has been a year since that day, and the Sovereigns have once again returned to power, restoring themselves to their previous positions as keepers of the seal on the digital world. The power of the Ten Legendary Warriors is no longer needed to maintain it, and I see no reason we cannot re-forge and re-bestow the crests to those whom deserve them the most: the digidestined._

_-Gennai, Watcher_

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><p>Davis wasn't sure why he was here. According to the intel that Gennai sent them about this little meet-and-greet, it was kind of an award ceremony for the old digidestined…well, "old." None of them were old. Davis only just turned thirteen, same as Kari. And Tai couldn't even drive yet. It was weird thinking of them as "old," but that's really what they were, when it came down to it. Not in an age sense, but their adventures…were quite a while ago. Four years, if Davis's math was right, which it probably wasn't. Never his strong suit and all that.<p>

_Of course, what's four years in the big picture of things?_ He thought.

_Almost a third of my life_, came his response. Long times got longer when you got older. Right now, his were short.

It wasn't much of a ceremony, to be true. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. They all showed up (even Mimi) at Gennai's place, a little cottage in the middle of a big forest, and waited for everything to start.

"I'd invite you inside, but there are so many of you that it might get crowded," were the words he used to keep everyone outside. Ken had told Davis he thought there was some kind of surprise inside for them. Davis thought there just wasn't enough room. So they all waited outside. Everyone danced the dance of social interaction. Matt and Sora stuck together like glue, Tai smiled and laughed at everyone, Joe acted all proper and pushed his glasses up his nose a lot, Izzy smiled, but didn't say much, Mimi bounced around like a Mexican jumping bean, TK and Kari gave each other awkward, sidelong glances, Davis got jealous of them and spent a lot of time trying to be the center of attention, Ken smiled and did the whole "perfect at everything" schtick, Yolei was chill and smiley, and Cody did his best impression of a statue. Gennai spent his time inside. Overall, it was just like any other get-together. It had only been a year since they were in the digital world—less for those who visited more often.

Davis visited more often. He liked spending time in the digital world. It was a nice break from what was slowly becoming "every-day life." He'd forgotten how much every-day life could suck. An alcoholic mom and a too-stubborn-to-do-anything-but-yell dad could really emphasize that. But Davis had Ken, and he had Kari and TK and Yolei and Cody and Tai. And everyone else, but that was really _his_ group. His team, as it were. Whenever he needed someone to talk to, he had Ken or Yolei. Whenever he needed guy time, there was Ken or Tai, and even TK sometimes. If he wanted to feel good about himself, he had Kari. And if he just needed to mellow out, there was Cody. They were his family. One helluva family they were, too.

After maybe an hour of chit-chat and reminiscence, Gennai exited his quaint little cottage. He hadn't changed much in the year they'd been gone. He was growing a beard again, but other than that he was young as ever. Davis even thought he saw Mimi give him a couple infatuated glances. He carried a brief-case with him, and a small, fold-out table.

Gennai was followed by three others. The first was a digimon, small and pink, with black, insect-like eyes and wings. Davis recognized him as a piximon. Maybe _the_ piximon who helped Tai's crew way back when. The second was Oikawa, the man whom the digidestined originally thought was behind the whole dark spore thing when, in fact, he had been controlled by one of Tai's old foes, Myotismon. Davis had watched him die, fading into flower petals and butterflies the day they beat Myotismon, but had since learned during his visits that he'd come back as one of…whatever Gennai was. Some kind of digi-man. During their talks, he'd learned that Oikawa had been given the honor of being the Guardian of the digital world, essentially a watchdog for the whole world. Davis thought it was pretty cool. The guy was still kind of a downer, but overall had grown on Davis. He had good intentions, and now a way to express them. A couple of the digidestined, namely Mimi, Yolei and Joe gasped at the sight of him. He smiled and joined Gennai. The third was a big, gruff black man. A thick salt-and-pepper beard covered his face, and he wore a tanktop and leather vest that exposed tree trunk-sized arms. In his massive right hand, he held a case similar to Gennai's, but much longer, like it housed a musical instrument of some sort. His eyes were dark, like almond-shaped shards of obsidian, and he also took his place beside Gennai.

"Hello, everyone," Gennai began. "First, I think introductions are in order. This," he gestured to the piximon, then Oikawa, "is Piximon, whom some of you know. And this, most of you know, is Oikawa. He's joined me in the last year, helping me keep an eye on the digital world.

"And this," he gestured to the large, bearded man, "is another good friend of mine, Tyron. Without him, what we are about to do wouldn't be possible." Gennai set up the table and placed the case upon it.

"You have all sacrificed what could have been innocent, normal lives to help this world," he said, looking at each digidestined in turn. "You have saved it time and again from threats that could conquer and destroy us all. What we give you now, we give in thanks. You deserve so much more, but we hope that these gifts are enough. Tai, let's have you come up first," he opened the briefcase, keeping the lid between the digidestined and what was inside. When Tai approached, though, everyone knew what he had brought. With his right hand, he lifted something from the case. First, all they could see was a leather cord, but soon they all knew, as the pendant of the necklace revealed itself. Vaguely diamond-shaped, with a slot in the center that held an orange piece of metal maybe the size of a quarter. On that piece of metal flashed a sun-shaped symbol.

It was the crest of Courage.

Davis really didn't know why he was here. He'd never received a crest. What were they giving him, exactly? He eyed the larger briefcase in the man Tyron's hands.

Tai took the crest, awe in his eyes, and thanked Gennai. Each of the older digidestined, including TK, but not Kari, were called up in turn.

"Also, for Ken, since we know you've had the crest of Kindness for a while now, we brought you this," Gennai pulled out an empty tag. Ken had his hand in his pocket, and was fingering what Davis figured was his crest for a long time now. Davis remembered giving him that crest, after their final battle as enemies, he'd found it in the dirt, and gave it to him almost as a peace offering. Ken stepped forward, took the tag, and removed his crest from his pocket. He rubbed the surface clean and slid its small form into the pendant. It fit like a glove.

Davis glanced over at Kari, who looked worried as the only one who had not received a crest. Gennai removed the briefcase from the table and stepped aside.

"Tyron also has some gifts he would like to present personally."

The big man stepped forward. He was massive beside that table, and it felt awkward watching his huge hands undue the snaps on his own case. He lifted the lid and said, in a deep, James Earl Jones-esque voice, "my job in this world is that of a smith. I have forged weapons, armors, and the crests you now hold in your hands. I never thought, however, that I would one day be able to put my skills to the challenge as I have so recently. Kari Kamiya, you may not know, but your crest of Light is very special. It took all my skill and power to forge this for you." He raised the crest of Light, just as it had been years before, fresh in its tag, from the case. Kari almost stumbled forward to accept her gift. "And for you three," he looked to Davis, Yolei, and Cody, "I have no crests for you, I am sorry. I do have gifts, however, forge in the fires of Zhuqiuaomon himself. Yolei," he reached into the case and removed a small shield, maybe twice the size of a dinner plate. It was silver, etched with runes around its edge and laid with a rainbow of other colored metals, as well as a single thumb-sized ruby in its center. "I gift you with this shield, forged of chrome digizoid, may it guard you and those you hold dear." She approached and took the shield, a look of wonder on her face.

"Cody," he reached in and pulled out a sword. A katana, with a gold-tinted hilt and a matching scabbard. He drew the blade, revealing runic etchings on its flat and magnificent folding marks, "I gift you this blade, forged of Chrome and Gold digizoid. May you wield it with the honor of your ancestors." He slid it back into its scabbard and passed it to the small boy, who took it with a bow.

The large man then cast his eyes on Davis, who almost flinched under his gaze, "Davis," he said. He reached in and removed a pair of goggles. The frames were gold, and the lenses almost glittered in the light. "I gift you these goggles, the lenses of which were forged from the remains of one of the destiny stones. May they allow you to see the truth when the world around you is false." Davis stepped forward, and just about laughed as he took the goggles. Of course they'd give him goggles. What else would they give him? Cody got the sword, Yolei got the shield, and Davis got goggles.

It was hilarious. A total honor—the lenses were made from a destiny stone, after all—but still hilarious.

The whole event wrapped up not long after that. Veemon congratulated Davis on his gift, and they laughed about it a bit together. Everyone said goodbye to Gennai, Piximon, Oikawa and Tyron, and before long they were back in their own world, their gifts in their hands.

"Just can't seem to get away from those things, can you?" Tai asked Davis once they were all situated. Davis looked down at the goggles in his hands. They glittered back at him.

"Nope," he said. "Guess not."

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><p>I hope you all enjoyed. Chapter 1 goes up on May 15th.<p>

-The Beast


	2. Ch 1: Rainy Days

Sorry I didn't get this up 'til the 16th. Sunday was a busy day for me.

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><p>War of the Crests<p>

Part 1: Light

-Chapter 1: Rainy Days-

Three Years Later…

The twin knocks were quick, not like the kind you hear in TV shows or movies at all. Just two quick raps, one-two. That's how Tai knew it was Matt, it was the way he always knocked. He rushed to the door from his place in front of the TV and unlocked it, opening to find his buddy standing before him. He was soaked head to toe, his long blonde hair dark and wet, plastered to his face. He wore a frown, and his eyes were tired. Something was wrong. He held a backpack strap with one hand, the backpack slung over his shoulder. It, too, was soaked. And whatever was in it probably was worse for wear, too. Tai noted that there was a distinct lack of a case containing Matt's bass. Something was definitely wrong.

"You look like hell," Tai said, stepping aside.

"Imagine how I feel," Matt stepped in and, with one hand, pulled his hair away from his face and swept it back behind his ears. It stayed like that, which wasn't supposed to happen. He shook his head and the wet locks fell back into their usual position as a frame around his face.

"Should I ask?"

"You don't have to. Sora broke up with me," Matt said. It wasn't a pleasant sound coming from his lips.

"Geez," Tai said. He almost said more, but the look on Matt's weary, rain-soaked face told him that 'geez' was probably enough sympathy for now. He wanted his friend. "Go ahead and toss your stuff in my room. I'll…make coffee or something," Coffee was their usual 'rainy days suck' drink of choice. Matt nodded and made his way to the back hall that led to Tai's room. Tai watched him stop off in the bathroom and grab a towel. Evidently, he'd noticed that he was dripping on the carpet. Damn. Matt and Sora had been dating off-and-on for…what was it, four years now? They'd had their fights, but Tai had never seen Sora literally throw Matt out into the rain like this.

He turned off the TV, walked into the kitchen and set the coffee pot a-brewing as he searched the fridge for liquid creamer. They had two kinds, a french-vanilla and some kind of honey-cream flavor. He grabbed both. Matt liked the honey. Kari emerged from the hall, smart phone in-hand, probably texting someone. Probably TK.

"What's Matt doing here?" She asked, choosing not to look up from her phone. "And why is he soaked?"

"Sora kicked him out," Tai reached into the cupboard above his head and grabbed two mugs. They clinked together as he pulled them down off the shelf. Kari looked up from her phone, her eyes wide.

"Like, _out_ out? Or they-had-a-fight-and-he-has-to-sleep-here-tonight out?"

"The first one. She broke up with him." Tai poured some creamer into each cup. A little extra into Matt's. He needed something sweet.

"You want me to handle Sora when she calls, then?" Kari asked.

Tai smiled. Sometimes, Kari was just awesome, "It'd be very much appreciated."

Kari stood by the phone and continued texting. While Tai waited for his coffee, he looked over her shoulder. It was TK. They had, apparently, planned to meet up tonight. While she was in the middle of informing him that she couldn't talk about why she had to cancel, the coffee pot beeped, informing Tai it was finished with its job. He took the pot and, taking both mug-handles in one hand and the full pot plus creamers in the other. It was quite a feat of dexterity, but he'd done it enough times that it wasn't too hard. He gave Kari a smile and, as he reached the door to his room, the phone rang. Right on cue.

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><p>"Hello?" Kari asked, cradling the home phone between her shoulder and ear as she sent another text to TK, informing him <em>again<em> that she couldn't talk about it; it wasn't about him; and that she'd talk to him soon.

"Kari? Hey, it's Sora." Sora said from the other line. It was almost like a dance, phone greetings. Rehearsed.

"Hey, Sora. Tai's not available right now," she said, glancing at her phone as TK's incoming message blinked up on the screen. _"What do u mean? Dont u trust me?"_

She texted yes she did, and that it was out of her hands while Sora said,

"Oh. Okay, I'll call later, then."

"He's talking to Matt, Sora. If you want both sides of the story heard, then talk to me," Kari said.

"Of course he is. Where else would Matt go?" Sora sighed, and TK sent over, _"OK. TTYL? Tmmw?"_

Kari sent a yes, a love you, a goodbye, and asked, "What happened?"

"Well, we were sitting around in the living room. I was drawing him and he was tuning his guitar. Again. His band hasn't had a gig in a month, did you know that? Anyway, he was tuning his guitar, and I was drawing him, and then it comes to me. Why are we just sitting around, doing nothing? We're 18! We should be out there partying or something, right? Eating dinner, seeing a movie, dancing, _something._ Not wasting time doing nothing. I mean, I love to sketch, and he's fun _to _sketch. But I've done it like a million times. We haven't gone out and done anything for a while, either. So I ask him, 'why don't we do anything, anymore?' And he looks up at me with this bewildered expression and just says, 'what?' So I ask, 'why are we just sitting around here?'

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><p>"So she asks, 'why are we just sitting around here?' And at this point, I'm totally lost. I wonder what this is about. I mean, does she want to make love or something? So I ask her, 'is this about sex? Because I'm lost.'"<p>

Matt paused to take a sip of his coffee, and Tai almost used the opportunity to comment, but decided on rubbing his temple and letting out a groan instead.

"So I say that, and then she's like, 'is that all you think about?' And then I stop tuning my guitar and look at her. I mean, really look, you know? I try to find out what I did wrong, what she wants me to say, but I just can't see it. So I ask her. I say, 'what did I do wrong? What exactly do you want me to say?'

"And she just explodes on me. She says something like, '_what did you do wrong?_'" Matt made the imitation in a high voice that Tai was almost surprised to hear coming out of his mouth. "And I just say, 'Yeah. You're obviously pissed about something. Just tell me what it is, so I can fix it.'" Matt was going to continue. But Tai had to stop him.

"You really are an idiot," Tai said, looking Matt straight in the face. "You've been together with Sora for four years—"

"Off and on," Matt interjected.

Tai ignored him, "—and you can't tell what she means when she says 'why are we just sitting around here?' And you jump straight to _sex_? You know, for being a badass rock star, you really have to work on your people skills." He smiled, trying to provoke one from Matt. It didn't work.

Matt narrowed his eyes at him a little, but then rolled them in defeat, "Okay. You're right, o wise sage. Can I continue?"

"Please," Tai took a sip of his own coffee, letting the sweet vanilla creamer meld with the bitterness of the blackness.

* * *

><p>"Wow. He said <em>that<em>?" Kari asked. She had put her mobile away, and was actively listening to Sora. Kari knew Matt was innocent, that he really did just want to know what was going on. But Sora was angry, and it was better just to go with it than try to explain the situation.

"I know. So then I just looked at him, you know? I really _looked_ at him. And inside him, I don't know. I didn't really see anything. I mean, I know who he is. I know he's a great guy, and he's fun sometimes, and he's passionate. But…I didn't see a future, you know? He just doesn't get it, doesn't get me. He'd probably marry me if I asked him. But that's kind of the point. I don't want a guy who I have to ask something like that. I looked at him and I saw…four years of my life. Four years of fun and love slowly drifting into four years of…sitting around drawing and tuning guitars. We were getting old, I guess, and I'm not old.

"So I tell him 'we don't go anywhere, Matt. We don't do anything. We haven't done anything in months except sit around, go to Tai's soccer games and have sex. I feel old with you, like we're one of those eighty year-old couples you see at crappy restaurants that just sit around, eat their soup and don't talk to each other because they have nothing to do with their lives. I'm not eighty. I'm eighteen. I _want_ to do things with my life.'" Kari felt like Sora wasn't just talking to Matt. "I called him stagnant, like a pool of old water. I said that he was making me the same way. And then he said, 'you want to go out? Let's go out.' And that was it. He just…he didn't get it. He couldn't. I decided right then and there that I was done. And I told him so. I told him we were through, and to pack his things and leave. He just stared at me, like some lost puppy dog who couldn't believe I wasn't taking him home with me."

Kari gave a confirming sigh. It was hard to respond to something like that. And any hopes of getting them back together died with that little speech.

"So this is for real then?" She asked. It was honest, and luckily Sora had calmed herself down enough to respond in kind.

"Yeah…yeah, it is. I just…yeah. Thanks for listening, Kari."

"No problem. I'll…tell Tai?" Kari asked.

Sora laughed a little, "Sure. Though he probably already has a better idea of what actually happened than either me or Matt."

Kari smiled. Sora was probably right. Tai had a knack for seeing through bias. He _got _people, understood them. Especially his friends. "It's why we love him."

"…Yeah. Thanks again, Kari." Sora said and hung up the phone.

Kari pushed the End button and hung up the phone herself. She couldn't say that she knew exactly where Sora was coming from. In fact, she probably had a terrible idea of it. Six months ago, Sora and her mom had a falling out when Sora told her that she wasn't going to a university here in Japan, that she wanted to work as an artist for a year or two before going to an art school in Europe. Sora's mom, ever the traditionalist, informed Sora that she had two choices, either go to University following her graduation, or get married. If she didn't do one of the two, Sora was out of the house.

After about a week of living in Kari's room, Sora found a cheap apartment in the city. She moved in, paying the rent and buying food with a job at a printing office down the street, helping people design signs and power-point presentations. That and Kari's mom, who just couldn't stand to see her out there in the big wide world on her own, donated money to her every month to help her out.

About a month ago, Matt moved in with her, much to his father's approval and Sora's mother's chagrin. As far as Kari knew, until now they'd been just fine. Sure, they didn't have internet or cable, but they were getting along.

* * *

><p>"I just don't get it. Things were getting along great, you know? I mean, we loved each other, we spent time together, the sex was good. I thought we were actually going to make it together. We fought, sure. All couples fight, though. I just don't get it," Matt drained his second cup of coffee and looked it for a moment. That was just the problem, Tai knew. Matt really <em>didn't<em> get it. This was far from their first fight, far from their first break-up, too, but this one was final. He knew it, Matt knew it, and it sounded like Sora knew it, too. After each fight, Tai generally got to play therapist to Sora and, quite frankly, he'd seen this coming for a while. Matt might know how to play to a crowd, but dealing with people had never been one of his strong suits. And as much as Matt was known as the "wild child" of their group, full of hot temper, piss and vinegar, it was Sora who needed action and independence in her life. Matt would have been perfectly happy tuning that guitar, sitting across from Sora for the rest of his life. Sora wanted something more...and some_one_ more.

He looked up from his empty cup at Tai, "You have anything stronger? Beer or something? I feel like getting drunk."

Tai chuckled, "Nah. Nobody drinks it around here. We've got wine, and scotch, but I don't really feel like explaining to my mom why her good bottle of pinot noir is empty. And nobody touches my dad's scotch." Tai smiled, trying to provoke one from Matt.

Matt just nodded in solemn understanding, if not agreement, "Yeah. I just…I love her, man. You know?"

Tai almost responded to that question, but knew his answer would cause more problems than it solved. So he just grunted and said, "rainy days suck, man."

"Yeah, I guess they do," Matt poured himself another cup of coffee and took a sip without adding creamer.

Tai's mobile buzzed in his pocket three times. Somebody texted him. He took another sip of his own coffee and ignored it for now. He had other things to focus on.

* * *

><p>Davis took a sip of his coffee and waited for a reply from Tai. Ten minutes passed with no response. Evidently, he had something more important to do. He checked it again, making sure the vibrate function was on so that he wouldn't miss it if Tai did get back to him. It was on.<p>

"Expecting a call?" the girl behind the bar, Kimiko, asked him. Davis always sat at the bar when he went to Starbucks, and he probably went more than he should. The fact that he had a regular drink told him that. She was using a towel to clean up some spilled coffee and milk around the brewing station. He forced a smile, and could see that she knew it was forced. He liked Kimiko. She was pretty, with sharp eyes, pinkish-red streaks in her black hair and two Starbucks straws (reinforced with chopsticks) holding her hair in place. She went to school with him, though they had no classes together, and he sometimes walked her to work after school. He had thought about asking her out once, but shortly after thinking about it, realized that he didn't have anywhere to take her, nor any money even if they did go somewhere. He only ever went to school, here, home, Tai's place and the soccer field. And the only reason he had the 2000 yen he had now was because he took it from his mom's wallet (she wouldn't miss it. She never went anywhere either). So he didn't ask her out. But at least he had somebody to talk to. The weather outside was shit (a storm in the summer…seriously?) and he didn't want to go home. He'd already tried Ken, who was busy with Yolei, and Tai was…not responding.

"Trying to get a hold of Tai, maybe hang out for a while," he said, dropping the smile. "No response."

"You could always hang here. I don't get off 'til closing," she offered.

"Doesn't Eiko not like it if a customer sits around without a drink in his hand?" he asked. Eiko was the manager and Kimiko's boss. She was fair, but often fair meant asking Davis to leave if he didn't have any money. Lucky for them, Eiko was currently in the back doing books.

"That's a drink in your hand," Kimiko gestured.

"Not for much longer," Davis shook the cup. What little coffee was left splashed around inside. "Anyway, I should probably go and do something. You know, be a productive member of society and all that."

"Oh, screw that," Kimiko began, but a customer entered before she could give him the _go out and live your life_ speech again, and she told him to wait for her while she took the man's order. She was right, of course. He really should be getting out there and doing something. He felt like a starving artist or novelist or something, coming to Starbucks after school and just sitting around. Sure, there was soccer and school and whatnot to distract him, but even soccer wasn't…doing it for him. Ken was already lined up on soccer scholarships to get him through university (he'd probably go pro), and Tai was currently playing in the local league. Davis…was on the school team. And he was good, there was no denying that. But he didn't get the rush he used to. It wasn't really a spectacle any more. People came to the games. Ken, when he wasn't playing, Yolei, Kari, TK, Tai, sometimes even Cody would drop by. He just didn't have the passion he used to four years ago. His life felt…empty. He wasn't sad, just apathetic, un-driven. There was nothing really holding him _here_. The others, they all had their anchors. Tai had his family, and soccer. Matt and Sora had each other. Joe had his drive to become a doctor. Izzy had his technology and his place in Tokyo U. TK and Kari had each other, just like Ken and Yolei. Cody was dedicated to his schooling and his family.

Davis didn't have anything like that. Even his family didn't really hold him here. His mom and dad were the same drink-and-fight duo they'd always been, and Jun had a social life to keep her busy. Davis just spent most of his time drifting. Or at Starbucks. Or in the digital world. The digital world was more of a home to him than Odaiba these days. Even Veemon stayed there most of the time, spending time at Gennai's house in the woods.

He polished off his coffee and hopped off the bar chair as Kimiko rang the customer up. He waved goodbye to her and threw the cup away. She frowned at him in frustration and finished ringing up the guy's order just as he got to the door and pulled the hood on his sweatshirt up over his head. Damn storm.

"Hey! Davis, wait," she rushed up to him and grabbed his hand as he took his first step outside. Cold wind and rain rushed in to meet him. He looked at her hand, and followed it up to her face. Her lips were straight, her eyes firm, "go out with me Saturday."

The man at the counter looked at them, one corner of his mouth upturned.

"What?" Davis asked. _That was…not that random, actually_, he thought as he mulled it over.

"Saturday, rain or shine. Let's go out and do something, you know? It's my day off," she replaced the serious face with a smile.

Davis blinked, "Okay. I only have two thousand yen to my name. Actually, sixteen-hundred after that coffee."

Her smile broadened, "Good. Meet me here around noon, 'kay? We'll go somewhere cheap, I promise."

"Noon," he said as a half-question.

"Right. Noon, Saturday. Be here," The smile stayed on her face, she squeezed his hand, and went back inside.

"Sorry about that," she said to the man, "personal matter."

"Indeed. No trouble," he said, turning and smiling at Davis, who managed a genuine half-smile back.

As he walked down the street, rain already soaked through his sweatshirt and into his hair and skin, he thought, _Did I just get asked out?_

_Yeah, I think I did._ _I should tell Veemon._

* * *

><p>He could <em>feel<em> the power. The object around his neck pulsated with it. Pure and raw. And the world reacted. Rain pelted his face and body as he stood prostrate atop a skyscraper like Jesus on the cross, opening himself to the sky. Lightning coursed through the clouds in time with a pulse of energy from the crest, and thunder followed—a deafening roar over Tokyo. It was all coming to pass. After two centuries of research and study, he finally obtained the unobtainable. What some called divine he wore around his neck, and the sheer energy it contained was near enough to bring him to his knees. He could feel its sentience. That power, it wanted out. It wanted to be wielded, to be mastered by one who was worthy..

"I am worthy," he said, and it was punctuated by another flash of lightning and another roll of thunder, as if to confirm the statement. "You are calling out to the world. This storm is your herald, and mine."

Another pulse of energy, another flash of lightning, another crash of thunder. Power. Pure and raw and beautiful, like the storm above. It was real, alive, and in his possession.

"All I need do is master you," he said. "And all shall see the true power of Light.


	3. Ch 2: Not Alone

Another short one. Sorry folks. That's just the way the words fell into place.

* * *

><p>War of the Crests<p>

Part 1: Light

-Chapter 2: Not Alone-

Did seasons come to the digital world? It was a question Davis never really answered for himself. He'd been coming here for four years now, and as he gazed up at the trees in the forest that surrounded Gennai's little cottage, he thought Yes, seasons did occur here. The leaves were just beginning to turn a shade greenish-yellow, heading toward the beautiful goldenrods, oranges and browns that made autumn such a nice season.

He whistled a little as he walked down the path to Gennai's house. He was beginning to dry from the storm, and the thought of his date with Kimiko on Saturday was definitely something worth whistling over. The song was tuneless, but he didn't really need a tune. A rock sat in the middle of the road about ten feet ahead of him, and when he came close, he nuzzled it out of the dirt with the toe of his sneaker and started kicking it along the ground.

Davis stopped for a second. He was happy. He was enjoying the color-change of the leaves. He was kicking a rock. He was whistling for Christ's sake. He raised his eyebrows, looked at the rock by his toes, and kicked it again.

_Good_. He thought. _Happy is good_. He'd gotten so used to apathy, some real happiness was always welcome. Part of it, he thought, was the digital world. He always enjoyed it here. Whether he was racing across the plains on Raidramon, or just having a fireside chat with Gennai or Oikawa, he thanked his lucky stars that this world was open and available to him. It made him feel like he was at home. More than once, he'd thought of attempting to build a house here. Something small, similar to what Gennai had. Somewhere with a brick fireplace, a bookshelf and a couch. And maybe even a bed to stay overnight, should the pressures of the real world…pressure him too much.

It was a nice thought, but an unrealistic one. He didn't know how to build a house. And even if he did, he still had two more years of school left, and that was if he chose not to go to college (an option that was looking brighter every day he came to this world).

The cottage slowly came into view, and he could see through the trees someone running around outside. Two someones, actually. Both very short.

_Looks like Veemon's got a friend_. He continued his whistling, though he'd left his rock behind a while ago. As the trees cleared and the cottage came into clearer view, he got a better look at his partner, and at the cottage. It was small, quaint and homely. The way every cottage should be. Honestly, he had come to the conclusion that Gennai must have stolen the design from an Earth magazine or something, because the whole thing looked like it belonged in some small Irish village. Not-quite-brick housing, coated in places by moss. A small garden outside, stocked with cabbage, carrots and corn and surrounded by a lattice-work fence. A fish pond along the side, complete with water lilies and lily pads.

Veemon and his friend—a small dragon-like digimon with red horns that Davis had seen here a few times before were playing a one-on-one game of soccer. They'd made a single goal out of a pair of big sticks, and were struggling for the ball, itself a thickly-bound bundle of rags. Veemon won control and kicked for the goal. He kicked wide. The ball rolled to Davis, who kicked it up into his hands with the same toe he'd been using to kick the rock. Veemon smiled at the sight of his partner and ran to him.

"Davish! You came to visit!" he shouted, still with that minor speech impediment.

"Of course I did. Playing a game, I see?" Davis bounced the ball on his knee, then passed it through the air to Veemon, who caught it with his hands. The little digimon made a better goalie than a forward, that was for sure.

"Yeah. Me and Dracomon were jusht killing time while his partner talksh with Gennai," Veemon said. Dracomon, the small dragon digimon, approached and gave a little bow to Davis,

"Veemon's quite good at soccer."

"I learned from the besht," Veemon smiled.

"You guys want to play me?" Davis offered with a smirk.

"No!" Veemon shouted, catching Dracomon by surprise. "I remember what happened lasht time I played againsht you. Never again!"

Davis laughed. God, it was good to laugh. "All right, fine. I'll watch you two until Gennai's free." He would have told Veemon then and there about the date, but it felt wrong to interrupt their game with his news. And it was awkward announcing something like that in front of a stranger.

The two digimon played for another half-hour maybe. And they played hard…not particularly well, but hard. Footwork had always been Veemon's problem, and he was lucky that Dracomon didn't know what he was doing, else he would have been screwed. As it stood, they ended up panting with an even score of one to one, and a pair of smiles to join it.

Someone began clapping behind Davis as the two digimon both collapsed onto their butts, finished with the game. He started a bit and whirled around. A boy about his age stood smiling at the game. How long had he been there? Davis had seen him here before, too, and had figured out the partnership between him and Dracomon. He had rusty red hair that looked like it had been through a tornado and a farmer's tan over a soft face, with high cheek bones and a sloping jaw-line. His eyes were his most prominent feature, though. They were crystal clear and bright blue—the kind of blue that creeps some people out.

"Nice game," he said. He turned to Davis. "Veemon your partner, then?"

"Yeah…you've met?"

"Met? Nah, but you know. I see him whenever I come here, and Dracomon talks. Nice to finally meet the man behind the mon," he held out his hand in greeting. Davis took it.

"My name's Davis," he said.

"Tommy. Nice to meet you," the boy replied. "You here to talk to Gennai?"

"And Veemon, yeah."

"Well, I left him in a good mood for you. Have fun." Tommy smiled and approached his digimon. Crouching beside him. "You need five to catch your breath?"

"Yeah," the little dragon said, still panting a bit. If dragons could sweat, Davis figured he'd be drenched.

"Veemon, I'm going in to see Gennai. Meet me in there?" he asked. Veemon gave him a thumbs up from his position on his back.

"No worries," Tommy said from his crouching position, "I'll keep an eye on him."

"Thanks," it was an automatic response. Veemon didn't really need 'looking after.' Even if the digital world weren't as peaceful as it was, if this guy knew how many battles Veemon had won…

He approached the cottage and knocked three times.

"Come on in," came Gennai's familiar voice.

Davis took the invitation, opened the door, and stepped inside. There was no fire in the hearth, but there was still a kind of house-like warmth to Gennai's home. It was more a mental coziness than actual, physical warmth. He closed the door behind himself, wiped any remnant dirt from his shoes, and walked through the entryway into the small living room. A bookcase stood to the left. Its shelves, he knew, housed a plethora of histories, textbooks, and novels, along with a healthy collection of ancient scrolls. Beyond the bookshelf, hundreds of photographs wallpapered the walls around the fireplace. Most were digidestined and digimon posing with Gennai, as both an old man, near-blind with age with white, silky hair; and a young one, clean-shaven with bright blue eyes and thick brown locks. One who didn't know Gennai might not know they were even the same man. He saw himself, and TK, and Cody and Yolei; Kari and Tai and Sora; Matt and Joe, and Izzy and Mimi. He saw others as well, digidestined and digimon from around the worlds, all come to see the old (or young) man. And yet beyond that, he saw Gennai in other locations. Cities and seas acted as backdrops to his memories, along with forests and plains. They mixed and matched and, though in no particular order, the whole of these photographs—these memories, painted a picture of a man.

Atop the hearth, like a centerpiece to the whole thing, rested Davis's special goggles; the ones he got from Tyron, the Smith; his destiny goggles. Yolei had her shield mounted in her home, above her bed. Cody's grandfather asked that the katana be mounted in their dojo, a testament to his honor. Cody agreed. Davis didn't really want to have his goggles up in his house. And, unless he put them in the soccer field, he didn't really have a _shrine _to mount them in. And they were way too gaudy to wear. Regardless of the honor they represented, he preferred the ones Tai gave him his first time in the digital world. He looked down at his old goggles, hanging around his neck. They'd been that way for a couple years now. A teacher told him that if he kept wearing those goggles on his forehead, they'd keep his brain from growing. It was a joke, and he knew it was a joke, but all the same he came to school the next day wearing them around his neck. They hadn't touched his forehead since.

Gennai sat on his couch, opposite the pictures, the goggles and the empty fireplace. He looked up from the cup of dark tea in his hand as Davis slipped into the room, and a smile lighted upon his face. He'd gotten older in the years since Davis's time as a digidestined. Lines were beginning to form at the corners of his eyes, and there were wings of gray at his temples. He sported a light goatee, and a dusting of stubble on his jaw line and cheeks suggested a future beard. He wore a thin, off-white bath robe, not too different from the more professional-looking white-and-silver robes he often wore.

"Davis. Can't say I'm too surprised to see you. Though, I did expect you'd arrive earlier. Isn't school out right now in your world?" Gennai asked.

"It is in Odaiba. Can't say about the rest of the planet," Davis replied. He sat beside Gennai on the couch (he owned no other furniture) and gazed up at the photos, trying to pick one out with Tommy.

"So, anything in particular bring you to my humble abode?" Gennai asked before taking a sip of his tea.

"Oh, you know. The usual," Davis replied. There _were_ no pictures of Tommy. At least, not so far as he could see. He kept searching.

"Another status report?" Gennai's voice lilted a bit with the word "report," as if there was something ironic about it.

"Stop calling it that. It sounds so…official," Davis turned away from the photos to look directly at the aging man. Ever since he learned Gennai's title: Watcher, and his job: literally to watch over the digital world, he'd been asking if Gennai had seen anything unusual. Evidently, Gennai was either tiring of it, or found something quite funny about it.

"Just as you can't know if school is out around your world, neither can I tell you about the goings on throughout mine. I _can_ tell you that the Koromon in Koromon Village are experiencing some inner turmoil in deciding their new Guardian. Likewise, I could tell you that negotiations between the Yokomon and the Meramon of mount Mihirashi are going smoothly. Chameleonmon's restaurant in Tribuo is serving delicious potato chowder today, and none of what I've told you is what you were hoping to hear." He punctuated his speech by taking another drink of his tea.

"Okay, okay. I get it. All's quiet on the Western front," Davis waved a hand at Gennai and poured himself a cup of tea. The only teacup available still had a few drops left within. Likely Tommy's, but Davis wasn't one to really care about such things. He took a sip, and let the almost savory-sweet tea linger on his tongue for a few seconds before swallowing it down. "So how are things around here?"

"Going quite well, actually," Gennai replied. "As you said, all's quiet. Even the unrest amongst the Koromon looks as if it will clear up soon. I really can't think of a time that the digital world has been so peaceful. It's quite soothing, actually."

"Peaceful," Davis tasted the word. He didn't much like the flavor. Peace was just a precursor to discord. In his world, when things got peaceful and serene, it was usually the calm before a storm. Rather than sharing such a dour outlook, he changed the subject, "So who's Tommy? A digidestined, obviously, but…I've never heard anything about him before."

"Not a digidestined, no," Gennai said, "not by my definition, anyway. He's got a digivice, and Dracomon. But a digidestined suggests something…more. A purpose, I guess. But those are just the words of a doubly-old Watcher. Tommy's a good kid. A bit too smart for his own good, but he's got a kind heart. We've got a mutual acquaintance, and I like to check in every once in a while, to see how things are going." His eyes faded a bit, deep in memory, before coming back a few seconds later, bright and blue (though not quite so creepily blue as Tommy's eyes).

"So I'm not the only one who likes to keep tabs," Davis said.

Gennai trained his gaze on Davis, studied him for a moment, and looked away, "I guess you're not."

The door opened, and both turned their heads to see Veemon shuffle inside, a dead-tired smile on his face. "I guesh I need more Exershise, Davish. I am pooped," he said through his grin. He dragged his feet over to the couch and Davis helped him up, where he lay back and let out a deep sigh of relief.

"Whoo…" he said, leaning his head on his partner. "I don't know how you do it, Davish. Shoccer is hard."

Davis wrapped his arm around his partner, and within seconds the little blue guy was snoring.

"So…any news in your life, Davis?" Gennai asked. Davis smiled.

"Well, I _was_ going to tell this little guy some good news. But that's out of the question for a while, anyway."

"Tell me. Good news is always a good thing," Gennai smiled. His face was open and inviting.

"Sure. What the hell? We're friends. I've got a date on Saturday," He said, allowing the thought to ruminate a bit and a smile to grow on his face.

"Well, good for you! Anybody I know?" Gennai asked.

"Nah. Her name's Kimiko. She works at a Starbucks I frequent…" he paused for a second, realizing that Gennai probably had no idea what Starbucks was, "Starbucks is a coffee shop in my world."

"Ah," Gennai said, looking down at his tea for a moment. "Do you like her?"

"I said yes, so I certainly hope so," Davis replied. Gennai was looking at his tea, a slight frown on his face. "Something's wrong. What's wrong?"

Gennai looked up, "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just remembering something. As you can probably guess, I haven't been with someone for a long while."

"I didn't know you were _with_ somebody, ever," Davis said. "You always seemed like…I don't know. A guardian angel or something. Someone beyond…" Davis waved his hand in the air, as if talking about God, "…our _lowly mortal feelings_. You know?"

Gennai let out a small laugh, "I'm not divine, Davis. I'm not human, either, but that doesn't mean I can't feel love or lust or any of those _lowly mortal feelings_. I did have someone once."

Gennai didn't look like he wanted to share, so Davis didn't pry. Instead, they sat together, finished their tea, and continued to chat about this and that. Chameleonmon's world-famous chowder came up, along with the Koromon unrest. They talked about events in Davis's world, America's ongoing war in the middle-east, the uprisings in the same area. They talked about the digidestined and soccer and Davis's schooling. And when Veemon woke, Davis told him about Kimiko, and Veemon gave him a weak high-five.

Maybe building a house out here wasn't out of the question.

* * *

><p>Rain sucked. Hard.<p>

TK grumbled as he exited the movie theater…alone. The movie, an actioner from America, wasn't very good. Kari hadn't come for some undisclosed reason, but TK decided that he'd rather go to a movie alone than sit around all night watching TV. Of course, as he reached into his pocket and gripped his keys, he realized that it was still only about six in the afternoon, and he'd probably still be sitting around doing nothing for the rest of the night unless he found something to do instead.

"It's still raining, isn't it?" Patamon asked from TK's backpack. Patamon liked movies, and it was easy enough to smuggle him in, and dark enough in the theater that usually nobody noticed if he sat on TK's head while he sat in the back row.

"Yeah," TK replied. He could feel Patamon shift, probably nuzzling his way under something like a cat to block the rain.

"I hate rain," he mumbled.

"Me too, buddy," TK said. He pulled the keys out of his pocket and ran out into the rain. The torrent beat down on his hat and shoulders, and he could hear it soaking his backpack. He sprinted to his car, a little silver two-door he picked up used a couple months ago when he got his license. His mom and dad had collaborated on it as a gift to him. The first thing they'd collaborated on since they both decided to get divorced. He unlocked the door, opened it, took off his backpack, and tossed it into the passenger's seat before scrambling into the driver's side and shutting the door. Patamon wormed his way out of the backpack, unzipping it from the inside and kicking it onto the floor once he was in the seat, and they both sighed in relief. TK buckled himself in, started the car, and listened to the weather report while he waited for the engine to warm up. Despite the sudden freak rainstorm, meteorologists predicted sun for at least the next week before things started to cloud up for autumn. TK turned on the defogging heater and scoffed at the report. He didn't trust weathermen. He switched over to a rock station and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the drums and hummed along with the guitar.

Once the windows were sufficiently un-foggy, he turned on the wipers, backed out of his spot and pulled out of the parking lot. Patamon reached up and buckled himself into the seat. It was an awkward sight, and only the waist-belt worked on him. It was better than nothing, however. Patamon didn't really trust cars, and preferred to fly whenever he could. The rapidity of the swinging wipers informed them both that his wings would find no use outside, at least not today.

The drive home was a quick one. TK's apartment building was close to the center of town, which made getting around easy. It was days like this that actually made him get his license. A stop light forced a stop, and he tapped the wheel in time to a rather rhythmic song on the station, and made near-silent "bum, bum" sounds along with the drums. He glanced at the clock. Still only about six-fifteen. Maybe he could hang at Kari's for a while.

_No. _he thought. _If she can't come with you, it probably means you shouldn't try to force the issue by visiting her._

Someone caught his eye outside the rain-soaked windows. He only caught intermittent glances of them between wiper-slashes, but there was something odd about them. He couldn't tell if it was a guy or a girl. They just stood on the far corner of the street, facing TK's lane. For a second, he thought they were looking at him, but he shook off the feeling as paranoia. He couldn't even tell anything about their face, much less if they were _looking_ at him. His light turned green, and he sped forward, probably faster than he should have, and left the strange corner person standing. He glanced in his mirror, to see if they were still there as he pulled away. Whoever it had been was gone. Probably waiting to use the crosswalk.

_Who the hell goes out in a storm like this?_ He asked himself.

As if in response, lightning cracked overhead. He started, gritting his teeth, and almost rammed the accelerator. His blood pumped hard and fast through his veins, and his muscles tensed. Patamon was looking at him, level-eyed, trying to decide if TK was safe to drive or not.

_Calm down,_ he thought to himself. _Deep breaths. You're a new driver, and it's a summer storm. Nothing to get worked up about._ He followed his own advice and, soon enough, his pulse had slowed and his muscles were once more relaxed.

After maybe five more minutes, he pulled into his apartment building's parking lot. All the spots close to the front door were taken.

_Of course they are. Because nothing can ever be easy, can it?_ He grumbled and pulled into an open spot between an SUV and a van. Patamon hopped back into the backpack, and TK squeezed out of the car, being careful not to hit the van on his way out. He shut the door and ran for the front door to the building. About halfway there, he stopped.

_Damnit!_ He thought. He forgot to lock the door. Quick like a bunny, he rushed back to his car, stuck his key in the keyhole on the door, and locked it. Something caught his eye to the right. He glanced up, and spotted someone standing outside the parking lot, on the sidewalk. They were staring at him. He couldn't tell if he knew the person through the rain, so he just shouted,

"What are you looking at?"

The person turned away, hunched their shoulders, and walked down the street. It wasn't a nice thing to say to a random stranger. But then, today wasn't a particularly nice day. And even if it was, this wasn't a great neighborhood. TK lived alone with his mom, and he didn't have a job. She worked at a PR firm across the bridge, in the main city. The money was okay, but gas was more than pricey, and she probably treated TK too well.

He looked at the car she'd gone half on with his dad, and felt a pang of guilt.

"TK, the bag is leaking," Patamon's muffled voice reached his ears.

_Damn_, he thought as he flipped the bag around and held it, and Patamon, tight to his chest. He had schoolwork in there that he was supposed to be doing over break. His paper was probably soaked and illegible. _Damn. Damn. Damn. _He rushed to the front door again, and pushed it open with his shoulder. The girl at the front desk, he thought her name was Aoi, but always referred to her as Lobby Girl, glanced at him over a newspaper as he shook the rain off like a dog. As he wrung out his hat, she looked back to the newspaper and clucked her tongue in apparent self-importance. TK almost shot an insult at her, just something quick and dirty, but decided against it.

_High road_.

He decided to take the stairs. The elevator…wasn't necessarily in working order. It would function just fine sometimes. But it had a nasty habit of stopping at the third floor and not opening the doors. Someone—probably the damn landlord—left a crowbar in it about a month ago, so people could pry the doors open when it got to their floor (or the third, whichever came first). TK preferred the stairs. He began his ascent, and Patamon climbed out of the backpack and perched on his shoulder like a parrot. He stretched out his wings, and let the water drip from them with the rhythmic motion of TK's climbing.

"Your paper's wet," he said as they passed the second floor landing.

"I figured it would be," he replied. "At least that'll give me something to do tonight besides watch the history channel."

"There's never any history on it, anyway. Just reality shows about conspiracies and aliens," Patamon complained.

"Aren't _you_ kind of a conspiracy?" TK asked, jogging onto and past the third floor landing. He lived on the fourth floor, the tip-top.

"_We_ are a conspiracy," Patamon put extra emphasis on the 'we', as if TK didn't know what he meant. "But they never do anything on us, anyway. Everyone just believes that stuff about the once-in-a-lifetime eclipse or whatever."

"Yeah. Not very accurate for a history channel," TK just about panted as he finally reached his floor. He was getting out of shape. He used to run these stairs every day when he was still in basketball. But last year hadn't been great to him on the court, so he decided to take this season off and focus on other, more important matters.

What Patamon said was true. After their final battle against MaloMyotismon, the world didn't know what to do with itself for a while. There had been an event where the entire world (or at least the half that was still experiencing daylight) was covered in darkness, until millions of people around the world pointed their cell phones (and digivices) at the sky. Nobody knew what to think of it. Until some European scientist came out and gave an explanation. Something to do with a special kind of eclipse and an asteroid or something. All TK knew was that it was bullshit, and he could just _smell_ the cover-up.

He walked into the hallway and found his apartment, number four-nineteen. He unlocked the door (his mom didn't get home until around eight at night) and entered, flicking on a light and locking the door again once inside. He tossed his soggy backpack aside and hung up his coat on the hangers beside the door.

It was a small apartment, but then they were only two. The kitchen greeted him immediately on his right as he entered, the living room on the left. A sliding-glass door sat inset into the far wall, leading out to a small concrete balcony that overlooked the street, and the building across the street. A hallway in the far corner led to TK's bedroom, the bathroom, and the master bedroom.

It wasn't much, but it was home.

Patamon, his wings now dry enough, glided from TK's shoulder down to the couch in the living room. TK stripped off his wet shirt and jeans, tossing them into a laundry basket in the bathroom (where the washer and dryer resided) before changing into some pajama bottoms and an old, but dry, tee-shirt. He grabbed up a pad of paper and a pencil from his room, headed out into the living room, and tossed them on the couch beside the now-curled up Patamon. One visit to the kitchen later, he was munching on yesterday's dinner, now also today's dinner. Rice, some mixed frozen veggies, and chicken, with a sauce he'd thrown together with a few spices around the kitchen. It was pretty good, if he said so himself. He sat down on the couch, shared his dinner with Patamon, and flipped through channels to see if there was anything on. Nothing but reality shows and the news. He decided on the news.

It wasn't very interesting. The same crap they'd been talking about for the last month. Dinner finished, he set the bowl and chopsticks on the coffee table in front of him, where his bare feet soon joined them. He balanced the notebook on his knees and began to write. The paper was on Japanese history, specifically the feudal era. They were allowed to pick their own topic so long as they connected it to that era. He had already done his on the rise of myths and legends during that time. However, that copy sat bleeding all over itself in his backpack.

An hour later, he set his pencil aside and stretched his hand, the paper half-complete. Patamon stared at the TV with eyes half-lidded while TK picked up his bowl and took it to the kitchen to wash it.

Something caught his attention outside the sliding-glass door. It wouldn't have, except that, subconsciously, he'd noted it when he'd arrived home as well. He put the bowl in the sink and walked to the door. Through the wet glass, down on the sidewalk four stories below, someone stood in the rain. That…person…was there an hour ago when he got home. He hadn't realized it then, but he did now as he thought back on it. He got the distinct impression that he was being stared at again. This time, he didn't pass it off as paranoia. He also got the distinct impression that this was the same person who was staring at him as he locked his car, and maybe the same person staring at him at the stop light.

Through the rain, he saw two black arms rise up from the mysterious stranger's silhouette, almost in greeting. TK waved back.

_Yeah, I see you_, he thought_. I'm also locking my door and windows, tonight_. _Good luck getting in, whoever-you-are._

The figure's arms swept down, and TK realized they weren't arms. It lifted up, into the air, about twenty feet, and with another beat of what TK now realized were wings, soared up into the sky, disappearing into the storm.

"Holy shit…" he said, and Patamon perked up.

"What is it?" the little digimon asked, flying over and landing on his shoulder. Together, they gazed out into the storm. Another bolt of lightning flashed overhead, met immediately with a roar of thunder.

"I think I just saw a digimon outside. It…flew up, into the storm," TK blinked a few times and just stared outside, searching the skies.

"That is definitely weird," Patamon's voice was close to unbelieving. "You think it was one of the others? ExVeemon maybe? Or Stingmon?"

"I…" TK turned away from the glass and swept the curtains to its sides across, blocking his view. "…don't know."


	4. Ch 3: Secrets

War of the Crests

Part 1: Light

-Chapter 3: Secrets-

Tai knocked three times. Unlike Matt's knock, his own was very cliché, one-two-three, just like you might hear in a movie or on a crappy TV show. It was a salesman's knock, friendly and familiar.

"One minute!" Sora's voice barely made it through the door, but Tai had heard her enough times, had visited enough times since she got the apartment that he knew her automatic response. Tai knew that she would, in fact, take about a minute. She was probably painting something, or getting her hair to do just what she wanted, or…no, Sora wasn't one for makeup. She had a pretty enough face without it. He looked down at himself and checked his appearance while he waited. He was wearing an old pilot's jacket that belonged to his grandfather during World War II. The _Rising Sun_ flag's colors on his shoulder were faded to a pinkish-red and an off white, and he'd had to stitch it back on after it began to peel off. Likewise, the wool in the collar was a bit rough these days. But he liked the coat. It was a little warm in this weather (bright and shiny, in opposition to yesterday's downpour), but it was something special to him, given to him when his grandfather died a couple years ago. Even if Japan was villainized for their actions in during World War II, he felt proud to wear it, like he was carrying a piece of history with him. He was also wearing some old jeans (with _real_ tears in the knees) and a white tee under the jacket. Over the shirt, his crest hung loose around his neck, completing the ensemble.

About a minute after her announcement, Tai heard the lock click open and the door swung inward. Sora's hair was pulled back in a pony tail. She wore a white tank-top with paint spots all over it from years of use, her sports-bra's straps thicker than those on the top. A pair of gray, paint-spattered sweat-pants joined the top. She was barefoot, and her hands were dark from working with charcoal. A few black smudges on her face marked where she'd gripped her chin in thought while working, or rubbed her temple in frustration.

She smiled as she saw Tai, and her eyes lit up a bit, "Tai! What brings you here?"

"Matt," Tai said. Short, concise. He looked away for a second before bringing his gaze back up to her eyes. The light faded.

"Oh," she said, looking away as well, and bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of her head, a nervous tic.

"He left his guitar," Tai said. Matt had asked him to come, said it would make things easier. _Easier for who?_ Tai thought.

Sora looked back, dropping her arm, "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Right. Um, it's…over there." She pointed across the room. Indeed, Matt's bass was sitting in the corner, inside an open case.

"Can I come in?" Tai asked. "You know, to get it."

"Oh. Yeah, sure." She said, stepping out of the way and itching the back of her neck again. This was more awkward than Tai had thought it would be. "I'd grab it, but…" she wiggled her charcoal-blackened fingers.

"Yeah. He wouldn't want that," Tai entered and walked toward the guitar. Sora closed the door behind him. Sora's apartment wasn't big, and wasn't particularly nice, but there was something very…_Sora_ about it. The only furniture in the living room was a couch, under which, Tai knew, rested Sora's laptop. A small TV sat atop a table large enough to hold it and a DVD player. Beneath the table, a stack of DVDs awaited use, half of them pirated by Izzy. The rest of the living room was dedicated to Sora's art supplies. Two easels stood tall, each calibrated for a different-sized canvas. A pile of sketch books larger than the pile of DVDs rested beside Matt's bass. Boxes of paints and old coffee cans filled with brushes, pencils and charcoal scattered a bare floor. They'd ripped up the carpet so that she wouldn't stain it. The kitchen was in much better condition, as it was Matt's domain while he was here. Each type of cooking utensil was sorted into its own container on the countertops, and each spice, Tai knew, was either in the cupboards above the stove, or sitting on the ledge just behind it. They had a fairly-stocked refrigerator, and a collection of pots and pans ranging in size and consistency, from cast iron to teflon-coated stainless steel. Let it never be said that Matt never took anything seriously. Tai glanced toward the door that led to the master bedroom. Inside, he knew he'd find a dresser, a closet, and a pair of mattresses on the floor. Sora bought them off craig's list immediately after she moved out. She couldn't afford a frame, and didn't think she needed one anyway. Beside the bed, he'd find Matt's laptop. He'd have to grab that, too.

He knew Sora's home so well, knew _her_ so well, yet this situation still felt awkward.

He reached the guitar, closed the case, locking it up tight, and picked it up by the suitcase-like handle. He turned around and saw Sora standing right in front of him. She must have snuck up on him with her bare feet. Before he even finished turning around, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down, planting her lips against his. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, and he reciprocated the action, dropping the guitar and wrapping his own arms around her, pulling her up onto her toes. She tasted like charcoal from licking her fingers to shade whatever she was drawing. How he'd come to love that taste.

They parted and she whispered in his ear, "I locked the door."

He slipped off the jacket and let it fall on Matt's guitar, and the two of them stumbled across the living room together toward the bedroom, their lips parting only long enough to remove articles of clothing along the way.

Yeah…sleeping with your best friend's girlfriend was awkward, even after they broke up.

* * *

><p>"You sure you don't want to come with us?" TK asked, straightening his hat. Matt simply put up a hand and waved him away, staring at the TV screen.<p>

"Gotta wait for Tai to get back," he said, his voice monotone and distracted.

"All right," TK said. "You want us to pick you anything up on our way back?"

"No. I'm fine," Matt replied. Kari looked over at TK and shrugged. He nodded back.

"Talk to you when we get back, then," Kari said. "Keep the place safe."

Matt waved goodbye, but didn't look at them, "No worries."

Kari locked the door as they exited anyway. Matt was…distracted. This whole thing with Sora was hitting him hard. She and TK started down the hall toward the elevators.

"So how's your paper for history coming?" Kari asked. They had the same history class, and had been given an essay to write over the break.

"I had to re-write it," TK replied. "It was in my bag yesterday, and it got wet in the rain."

"Ouch," Kari winced, "that sucks. What was with that storm, anyway? It's not even fall yet."

They reached the elevator, and TK almost walked past it, but Kari caught his arm. She knew his apartment building had issues with its elevator, and he usually just skipped to the stairs. Hers, however, was functioning just fine, and she hit the button to head down. He stopped, smiling at his mistake, and they waited a few seconds for the elevator to arrive. They entered, she pushed the button for the main floor, and TK's hand found hers, almost by instinct. He wasn't great in enclosed spaces. Not necessarily claustrophobic, but uncomfortable. It was okay. She liked the feel of his hand against hers. He had sports-hands, not quite calloused like those of someone who did farm or metal-work for a living, but thick-skinned. They were the same hands that Davis, Tai and Ken had.

"So…Matt…" TK said. When he found out about the whole Matt situation, he was…surprised, to say the least. Sora lived two floors below him in the same building. The idea of having Matt around had been a comfort, Kari thought.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. TK loosened his grip on Kari's hand, but she kept hers and their hands stayed connected as they entered the lobby.

"Yeah…Matt," Kari responded.

"Is he going to be…living with you guys?"

"Sounds like. He doesn't want to go back to hi…your dad's place because…I don't know," Kari said. "Tai said it has something to do with his personal honor."

TK nodded as they exited the building through the front doors and the sun washed over them, warm and bright, "he doesn't want to go back to Dad a failure."

"What do you mean?"

"When he left to live with Sora, that was it. He was on his own. It's not like he abandoned Dad or anything, or there's any bad blood between them. But leaving home…that's a big deal, you know? That's like…a _be your own man_ type thing. If he crawls back home, he'll just prove that he's still a kid." TK explained as they headed across the parking lot for his car.

"What is he, Samurai? This isn't the Edo period, anymore," Kari replied, her own essay having, apparently, taken root in her brain.

"It doesn't matter," TK said. "I mean, Dad would probably agree with you. But Matt's always been his own guy, you know? Never a follower." They found his car and he released her hand to unlock the door. He got in, unlocked Kari's side, and she joined him.

The doors shut, Kari said, "I just don't get it. It's not…rational, I guess."

They buckled up and TK replied, "you're right. It's not rational. But that's just the way it is."

"I guess," Kari said. It didn't really make sense to her, but such was life. TK started the car, and something across street caught her eye. Something glass flashed in the sunlight, and she looked up to see someone walking along the sidewalk. She immediately recognized the figure. Dark gray sweatshirt, red hair, goggles around the neck, it was Davis.

"Hey, it's Davis," she pointed him out.

TK looked up from checking his mirrors and saw him. "Oh yeah, it is. You want to invite him along?"

Kari thought about it for a second. They were going to go to a movie yesterday alone before the whole Matt incident. They'd rescheduled for today, and made it a double date with Ken and Yolei. Bringing Davis couldn't hurt. After all, it'd be nice to get everyone back together again.

"Do _you_ mind?" She asked TK.

"Nah," TK said, waving a hand at the walking boy across the street, "I was in the mood to have a good argument, anyway."

He was joking, of course. She could practically smell it on him, but she made sure, just to be safe. "Is that a 'yes, let's bring him' or a 'no, I'd rather not?'"

"Call him over. It'll be nice to get the gang together again," he smiled at her, and she smiled back. She unbuckled, opened the door, and stepped out.

Cupping her hands around her mouth to project her voice, she shouted, "Davis!"

He turned to see who was calling him. She waved her hands in the air, and he waved back.

"Want to see a movie?" She shouted. Davis checked oncoming traffic, and in the span of a breath he was across the street. God was he fast. He hopped over the short hedges surrounding the parking lot and approached the car. TK was standing outside his own door, now, his arms crossed over the roof of the car.

Davis looked at each of them in turn and said, "a movie?"

"Yeah," Kari replied. "We were going to meet Ken and Yolei at the theater. You want to come?"

Davis felt his pocket, then said, "I don't have much money. I was saving it for tomorrow."

_Why tomorrow?_

"It's cool," TK said. "Ken will pay for you, rich boy that he is."

"You sure?" Davis asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah," TK said, spreading his arms out toward the sky. "A nice day like this? Who'd want to be outside in the sunshine when you can sit in a cold theater?" Davis blinked a couple times, not quite understanding.

"He's being sarcastic," Kari said, shooting a 'you know better than that' glance at TK, who smiled and replaced his arms on the car. "We'd love for you to come."

Davis glanced again at each of them, unsure, and hesitantly agreed. Kari scooted her seat up and let him in the back. He hopped in and she scooted the seat back again. As they buckled in for the second time, Davis's knees bumped into her back through the seat. She didn't complain, though, and they were off.

For the most part, they rode in awkward silence, and Kari noted that, other than the occasional soccer game and when he came to visit Tai, she hadn't _seen _Davis in a long time, much less held a conversation with him. She tried to think of a conversation starter, but nothing interesting came to mind, so she glanced at the rear-view mirror to see if he was as nervous as she. He was staring out the back window, eyes thoughtful and dreamy. It was a strange look on his face. Everything she remembered about him was loud and raucous and intense. She'd never seen solace on his face before.

He wore it well.

About halfway there, Kari spotted a Starbucks along the side of the road. Coffee sounded good right now, and she had some money in her checking account to spare. She pointed toward it and asked TK to pull in. He did.

"Anybody else want anything?" She asked as TK parked.

"My wallet's bone-dry except for gas money and cash for the movie," TK said.

"Yeah. Saving my money for tomorrow," Davis said from the back seat.

"Come on, guys. I'm buying," Kari told them.

"In that case—" TK began, but Davis's order interrupted him.

"Grandé caramel double-shot macchiato, low foam, not too hot."

TK and Kari both turned around in their seats to look at Davis, dumb-founded.

"Come again?" Kari asked.

He just looked back at them, rolled his eyes, and said, "just give them my name."

"So you're a regular, then," TK said.

"You think?" Davis asked, folding his arms.

TK smiled, looked over to Kari, and said, "grandé iced green tea."

"Okay," Kari said, "be right back." She hopped out of the car, and entered the Starbucks. There were only a couple people here. Not surprising. In Kari's experience, Starbucks was kind of a 'rainy day' place for people. Somewhere they could get something warm to drink in a nice atmosphere.

She knew the girl standing behind the counter from school, though couldn't recall her name. She was in Kari's language arts class. She approached the counter and saw _Kimiko_ emblazoned on a pin on the girl's chest.

"Hey, Kari," Kimiko said. She was known in the class for being…creative was probably the best word. Whenever they had a presentation, she would always do something different than the rest of the class, like an acted skit or a song. Similarly, she was one of the only people to dye her hair, though Kari did admit the pink-red streaks were cute.

"Hey. I didn't know you worked here," Kari said.

"Yeah. It's a living. What can I get started for you?" Kimiko asked.

"A grandé iced black coffee, same size iced green tea and…Davis just said to give you his name," Kari said. She knew there was a special word they had for straight coffee, but Kari never bothered to learn it. They knew what she meant.

"Oh! Davis is out there?" Kimiko glanced outside. Kari followed her gaze. Davis was stretching his legs outside the car, probably not used to being cooped up in the back seat. It looked like he was talking, probably to TK.

"Yeah. He's a regular?" Kari asked. Kimiko got three cups down and wrote down the orders on each of them, passing it back to another girl working the many mechanisms that went into making a cup of coffee.

"Yeah. He usually comes here after school, right when I go 'on duty,'" she used air quotes on the last two words, and rang Kari up. She paid with her debit card. Kimiko swiped it, continuing, "he doesn't always have money to get something to drink, but he's a good guy. Always tries to scrounge change together so he doesn't feel like he's cheating this place, you know? As if Starbucks needs more money," she handed Kari her card back, along with a receipt.

"Yeah. He is a good guy," she watched as he clambered into the back seat again. He was taller than she remembered, his legs longer. "You want me to say 'hi' for you?"

"Nah. I'll see him soon enough," Kimiko smiled, and Kari smiled back, moving out of the way for the next customer. She waited, and the girl working at the brewing station presented her with three cups in a little holding tray, told her to have a good day, and started to make the next drink.

Kari took the drinks, and something caught her eye about Davis's cup. She exited the building and twisted his cup to read it. Instead of his order, it read, _Davis_, _See you tomorrow!_ Something caught in her throat. What did that mean? Did she mean that she knew Davis would be back? Or…did Davis have a date? Something about that didn't sit right with Kari, but she shrugged the feeling off and walked to the car, opening the door and passing out the drinks. TK and Davis thanked her, and they pulled out of the parking lot. Kari spotted Davis's face in the rear-view mirror again. He was looking at his cup, smiling as he read the side. Kari knew that smile. It was the way he used to smile when he had a crush on her, back when they were still kids finding their way in the digital world.

_He does have a date_, Kari thought. Again, that unsettling feeling fell down on her. She took a sip of her coffee, but the caffeine didn't help.

* * *

><p>Tai let out a deep breath as he sank into what he truly thought of as <em>his<em> side of the bed. Sora's pressed her naked body up against him, one hand tracing the lines in his chest, the other running through his hair. He wrapped his arm around her and looked over into her beautiful auburn eyes, just darker than her hair.

"I think I might love you," he said, planting a small kiss on her rosy lips. She cupped his cheek with one hand and kissed him back.

"I think I might love you, too," she replied.

He wanted to lay there, staring into her eyes, forever. Or do other things with her forever. Either would work, really. He turned onto his side and ran a finger from her shoulder to her thigh, and back again. Next, he ran his hand down, allowing the slight curvature of her body to slide like silk beneath his fingers. She raised her leg up and over his hip, pushing on his chest with a single hand to get him on his back. His hand immediately went for his pants beside the bed, where he kept an extra condom in his wallet. He gripped the pants, and searched with his fingers for the pocket that contained the wallet as she climbed on top of him and kissed him.

His phone rang. The chorus from a _Rise Against _song.

"Let it go," Sora almost moaned. Tai almost did, but he found his phone pocket before his wallet. He gripped the rectangular device, glanced at it, and said,

"Oh shit. It's Matt."

Sora stopped, "Oh shit."

"Quick, turn on the radio," Tai said. She crawled off him and switched her clock-radio over to the 'radio' function. Some indie rock filled the air, and Tai sat up, answering the phone.

"Hey, Matt," he said in the most nonchalant tone he could muster.

"Hey, Tai. Where are you? It's been almost two hours, man," Matt asked. "There's nothing on TV."

"Sora's giving me a ride. We stopped for lunch,"

"What are you having?" Matt asked.

"Pizza," Tai lied.

"Bring me some breadsticks, will you?" Matt replied. "My guitar doing okay?"

Tai glanced out the open door into the living room at the guitar case and his jacket, regretting that he'd dropped it earlier, "the case might have a ding—some asshole pulled out in front of us and we had to swerve to miss him—but I think She's fine." Lies were easy when you were practically caught in the act.

"All right. Thanks, man," Matt said.

"No problem," Tai said.

"Seriously. I don't know that I could have faced her like that, you know?"

"That's why I'm here. I'll see you in less than an hour," Tai hung up after that and let out another deep sigh.

"Shit," he said, then looked over at Sora and smiled, "Pizza?"

She laughed and climbed out of bed, slipping out of the bed and putting on her panties, "You're buying."

"So long as you drive," he said, looking down at his body. Everywhere Sora touched him while they made love, black charcoal smears coated his skin. "I've gotta grab a shower."

"Maybe I should join you," Sora held her sports bra in one hand and gave him a lewd smile.

"Normally," he said, gathering his clothes and his phone, "I'd say yes in a heartbeat. But we've already been here for almost two hours. I don't to make him any more suspicious of me."

"All right, James Bond," she said, slipping on and adjusting the bra. "No more secret 'activities.'"

Tai hopped into the bathroom and checked himself in the mirror. The charcoal was all over his face, so he washed that, too, after flushing the used condom and taking a shower, careful not to get his hair wet. That was a sure way to raise questions. _"Why is your hair wet? It's sunny outside,"_ Matt would ask. And then Tai would have to lie again, only adding to the long list of things he'd said to cover up his affair with Sora. He dried himself off and put on his clothes. He made sure to slip into the bedroom and grab Matt's laptop before heading out. Sora was washing herself off with the kitchen sink and a wash cloth, as she'd spread charcoal all over herself as well during their passions. He threw on his jacket and sat down on the couch while he waited for Sora to be ready.

_You've got to tell Matt some time,_ he told himself.

_But not now_, he thought, groaning and rubbing his temple in frustration. Sora finished cleaning up, and threw on the paint-spattered shirt and some tight blue jeans (also naturally ripped). A pair of sandals joined the outfit, and together they headed out. Sora gave him one last kiss before they exited the apartment, changing from lovers to friends, delivering a guitar and a computer to another friend.

* * *

><p>"I met Davis," Tommy said, taking a shot at the eleven ball. A quick jerk of his arm, one loud <em>clack<em> later, and it sank into the corner pocket. He was ahead. Very ahead. Of course, that's how their games usually went. Jake stood across the table, leaning against an ornate bar with his eyes closed. Neither of them smoked, yet the ambience of the room—beautiful oak pool tables lined with forest-green felt, dark, polished cedar pillars, the carved and polished bar lined with crystal glasses, the smoky back-mirror behind the bar, and the low-hanging lights—couldn't help but give the impression of a 30's pool hall, full of cigar-smoking gangsters. Of course, Tommy supposed that this probably _was_ once a 30's pool hall. The entirety of Jake's home was filled with pieces of history, ranging from Mayan artifacts and crusades-era Arabian blades to his 30's pool hall and what Tommy thought was one of Jimmy Hendrix's guitars.

"And what do you think of him?" Jake asked. Tommy examined him for a moment. His eyes were open, examining the pool table. His face was particularly expressionless, and there was no sign of a real question in him.

"You don't care," Tommy said, picking out his next shot—the thirteen—and sinking it.

The faintest smile twitched on Jake's lips, "You see too well."

"Well, that's your doing," Tommy sank the fifteen.

"You are correct. I have already chosen the first," Jake stood straight and moved across the room, replacing his pool cue in its place on the rack. Tommy knocked the eight ball in to finish the game, and tossed his own cue over to Jake, who caught it.

"Do the rest of us get to know who the lucky target is? Or is it a surprise?" Tommy asked.

Jake racked the cue and stood silent for a moment, his eyes closed. Tommy waited. He was used to waiting, and was quite content to do so. Jake gave him a new life when he threw his old one away. Tommy would wait as long as it took.

Finally, Jake looked up at him. His green eyes, often dim, usually deep in thought, shone like emeralds in the gloom of the billiard room.

"No," he said. "Continue your work, Tommy, and soon enough our paths will cross."

Tommy nodded. It was a bit of a let-down, not knowing exactly what Jake had planned. But, against his better judgment, he had faith in his friend.

Whatever Jake's secrets, Tommy would find out eventually.


	5. Ch 4: Saturday

First things first, I want to say sorry to everyone for being a couple days late. I was out of town this weekend and was unable to access my documents in order to post. Also, I'm currently working on another story. It's another part of War of the Crests: a Side-Story that will play out alongside the main story. I hope to have chapter 1 of it out when chapter 5 of Light comes out. The plan is for it to be a real detachment from this story, with all-new characters telling their own stories, though its chapters will be released much more intermittently, as its events are tied to the events of the main story.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy chapter 4! The longest to date!

* * *

><p>War of the Crests<p>

Part 1: Light

-Chapter 4: Saturday-

A lot of people compare the sound of rainfall to the constant roar of an animal. Something primal and powerful. Davis thought the sound was closer to TV static—or rather, TV static's badass grandma. It was an annoying nuisance, but little more. Rain had never stopped him in the past, and it sure as hell wasn't going to stop him today.

_At least yesterday we had sunshine_, he thought. Yesterday had been fun. They met Ken and Yolei at the theater, and then skipped the movie and got lunch. Ken paid, like TK said he would, and it was like they were twelve again, like they were still digidestined rejoicing after a particularly good day destroying control spires.

Davis missed those days. And the rain today only reinforced how far away they really were. Regardless of how good the day was, how much fun they had, in the end they all went their separate ways. Yolei drove off with Ken, and TK and Kari left together after dropping Davis off at his house. It was like a class reunion, except they were all still going to school.

But that was life. He knew it, and he knew there was little he could do to change it. They were all living new lives, free of the digidestined chains. Davis was the only one who hadn't broken his.

As Starbucks came into view, he felt the shackles loosen a little.

He shook his hair out outside, under the eaves, and dumped out the water that had pooled in his goggles. He glanced inside, and didn't see Kimiko. He checked his cell phone. It was 12:07. He was late.

_Don't freak_, he thought. _She said rain or shine. She'll be here. You're running late, and she probably is, too. She'll be here._

He walked inside, stomped any excess moisture off his shoes at the door, and walked up to the register. Ren, one of two guys that worked here, was standing behind it, eying Davis. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a damp wallet, and shelled out the cash for his regular.

"Make it tall, I'm saving my money," he said.

Ren nodded, took the cash, and made change before writing Davis's name down on a cup and passing it back. Ren was an older guy, didn't talk much. Davis liked him.

He sat at the bar and ran his fingers through wet hair. Remnant water droplets ran down the back of his neck and under his shirt.

"What a day, eh?" Eiko, the store manager, asked from the brewing station. Davis looked up. She was smiling, but her eyes were like flints, black and ready to ignite. Davis didn't like her.

"Yeah," he said in response. "What a day."

"So I hear you're waiting for Kimiko. You've got a date," Eiko brewed the coffee and poured it into the cup, still eying Davis as if he were some kind of predator.

"Yeah," he said again.

"Where is she?"

"Don't know. On her way?" Davis turned his eyes away from Eiko and instead looked at the bar.

"Well let's hope she isn't standing you up," Eiko added the steamed milk, snapped on a lid, and put the cup out on the other end of the brewing station where most customers picked up their drinks, announcing it. Davis hopped off his stool, grabbed it, and resumed his seat.

"Oh," said Eiko. "That was yours? Sorry, should have known."

"My name's on it, you bitch," is what Davis wanted to say. Instead, he grunted and took a sip. It was watery and lukewarm, and there was too much foam. But he'd deal. He checked his phone again. 12:12.

_She'll be here._

* * *

><p>TK stared out his back window at the rain. It was noon, yet the clouded sky made it look like it was six or seven PM.<p>

"I hate rain," he said.

"Me, too," Patamon replied from his position on the couch. He hit a button on the TV remote, flipping through channels to find something to watch.

"Did the weather channel say there would be rain today?" He asked.

"'dunno," came Patamon's response. The sounds from the TV abruptly silenced, then immediately sprang back up again as he changed the channel again. TK pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window, staring at the darkened landscape with half-lidded eyes. It was cold, and he could feel the vibrations from the rain hitting the pane. These were the kind of days that just made him want to sleep and hope that it would all go away tomorrow.

He closed his eyes and just listened to the constant, almost rhythmic patter of rain.

"There's nothing on," Patamon said, turning off the TV and letting out a deep sigh of boredom.

_These are the days I wish I was a gamer_, TK thought. A PS3 or something would solve his problems. He opened his eyes and drew his head away from the glass. Barring that, there was always Youtube. He turned away from the glass, toward his room, and began heading down the hallway.

The sky roared and his apartment lit up like there was a sun inside. TK ducked, placing one hand against the wall. He blinked and all the lights in the house went out.

"Holy crap!" Patamon shouted from the couch. "TK, did you see that?"

He turned around, "was that lightning?"

"Right outside! Like…_right _outside. Wow!"

TK tried one of the light switches, just to be sure. The storm must have taken out a transformer outside or something. The switch didn't respond, so TK maneuvered into his room, grabbing up his cell phone and d-3. The tension in his chest relieved a bit when he touched the old device. He put each into a separate pocket and headed into the living room.

"I'm going outside," he told Patamon.

"Why?"

"To see what the lightning hit, and to call the power company, let them know what's going on."

"I'm coming," the little digimon hopped up onto the back of the couch.

This time, TK got to ask, "Why?"

"I'm going to be there if you get hit by lightning."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," TK maneuvered behind the couch in the dim, picking up his backpack and checking to make sure nothing important was inside before letting Patamon hop in. He grabbed his jacket, swung the bag over his shoulder, and was off. A minute or so later, he hit the bottom of the stairs and walked out into the lobby of the apartment building. Lobby Girl wasn't behind the desk. She stood in front of the glass, her face pressed against it. TK arrived and she glanced at him.

"What got hit?" He asked.

She just stared, then turned back and pointed outside, "The post out there. The one with the…whatchamacallit? The big metal cans up by the power lines."

_The transformer, like I thought._ _Damn_. He pushed through the door and walked out under the canopy out front to get a better look. Indeed, the transformer up on the post was scorched and sparking. The pole had a long, black crack running halfway down its length. Must have been some bolt of lightning.

"Can I come out?" Patamon asked. TK looked behind, the girl was still there.

"I'd advise against it," he said.

He whipped out his phone and dialed the power company. He had them on speed-dial, this building had so many problems. A few dial tones later, and he was met with a pleasant womanly voice. It was a recording. He hit the proper numbers, spoke with a technician (with a decidedly less pleasant voice), and reported the strike. He said they'd have someone out soon, and thank you for reporting.

TK turned back to the entrance, and stopped. What was he supposed to do up in the apartment? It was dark, dreary, and cold. He could sit and mope. That was an option. But so was leaving.

He rushed inside and started a text as he ran up the stairs two at a time, telling his mom about the situation and that he was heading out, probably to Kari's. After hitting "send," he began another message—to Kari this time—asking if he could come over. She didn't respond.

_She's probably asleep at the computer again,_ he thought.

He beamed another text to Tai, asking the same question, and if Kari was asleep.

Yes & Yes, came the response. Sweet.

"Patamon," he said as they reached his floor. "Want to go to Kari's?"

"As opposed to what?" the little digimon asked sarcastically. They'd obviously spent too much time together.

He rushed into the apartment, grabbed his keys, and rushed back out, making sure to lock the door. Back down the stairs, two at a time, and through the lobby past Lobby Girl, who was sitting once more behind her desk, cell phone in her hand and grump evident on her face, and he was outside, running toward his car.

_Maybe I'll get there before she wakes up_, he thought as he unlocked the door. _It'll be a surprise for her._

He opened the door, tossed in Patamon, and sat down before getting too wet. The little digimon crawled out of the backpack, kicked it to the floor, and buckled up as usual. TK mimicked him, locked the doors, and started the car. 90's rock poured out of the speakers.

"Gatomon'll be surprised to see you," he said as he looked over his shoulder and backed into the parking lot.

"She's never surprised," Patamon said. It would have been a cynical remark, if not for the tiny hint of awe in his voice.

"Well, she'll be happy then."

"Yeah," Patamon said, snuggling into his seat and smiling. He was developing a "thing" for Gatomon. Had been for a little while. Neither of them knew if the feeling was mutual, though. TK wasn't sure how digimon dating went, whether they asked each other out or what. He'd never bothered to ask. Patamon was a big boy. If he was going to ask Gatomon out (or whatever), then he was going to do it on his own. Not TK's problem. And, quite honestly, digimon dating was weird, and sometimes thinking about it conjured images that TK would rather stayed buried in the dirty depths of his mind.

"And we'll get to see Matt, too," he said. He always looked forward to seeing Matt. When he lived in the apartment building with Sora, he'd visited as often as…well, he didn't want to "interrupt" anything, so he always sent word ahead.

He pumped the windshield wipers up a notch. The rain was really coming down. He had to drive slow, and could just barely see even with them wiping as rapidly as they were. He came to a stop-light, and though there were no other cars, the light was red. He pulled to a stop and they sat together listening to Matchbox 20 and waiting for the light to change. The wipers flipped back and forth, cutting through the river on the windshield with each swipe.

There was nobody there except him. No other cars, no people. That was odd, even on a rainy day. This was _Tokyo_. There were usually people everywhere. Granted, Odaiba wasn't exactly a hotspot, but still. The wipers swiped right, rain coated the glass, and then they swiped left, revealing…

…two people in cloaks, standing in the middle of the road, directly across from TK's car. He honked his horn. They didn't move. One was probably about six feet tall, the other…over eight, maybe ten.

"What the fuck?" TK whispered.

The radio announcer said something, and the song switched from Matchbox 20 to some Santana hit.

The shorter cloaked figure raised one arm and pointed at TK. The tall figure nodded, and reached to pull away the cloak. One hand was white, gloved, with a golden etched bracelet. The other was covered by an etched gold gauntlet, a glowing emerald set into the wrist. The tall figure unhooked the clasp at its chest, and let the cloak fall to its feet, allowing all six of its wings to spread wide.

TK's eyes widened with them, "What the fuck?"

* * *

><p>At 12:45, Davis wished he'd brought a book or something. He stared at his mostly-empty cup of coffee between his hands, now room-temperature, and debated downing it and leaving. He popped off the lid and drank it like a shot, remnant foam and all. Standing, he stuffed it into the garbage and headed for the door.<p>

"That's too bad," Eiko said as he walked away. He wanted to tell her to fuck off.

Instead, he flipped her the bird and stepped out into the rain without looking back to see her reaction. His hands found their way into his pockets and his shoulders hunched to meet his ears as he walked. The downpour was something of a comfort as he stared at the cement. Like a giant, vibrating, freezing security blanket, it coated him on all sides, and the rain drowned out outside noise, leaving him to his own thoughts.

That, he could have gone without. His thoughts weren't very pleasant.

_Fucking stupid_, they said, _How fucking stupid are you? Did you really think she was serious? Idiot._

He bit his lower lip, his face growing hot and the space between his eyes wrinkling. His whole body was tense. He wanted to beat the shit out of someone. Trouble was, there wasn't anyone there on which he could unleash. So instead he walked.

A car rushed by him, and he had to jump against a building to avoid most of the wave it caused. He still got caught by the edge, soaking his right side in street-water as well as rain. He looked up at the sky,

"Fuck you," he said to it.

"Davis!" he blinked for a second. Did the sky just answer?

"Davis!" came the voice again, and he turned around. Not the sky, someone behind him.

"Don't tell me," he said. His eyes lit on someone running through the rain toward him.

She was wet. Soaked, actually. The car, he thought, probably caught her completely in its wave. The pinkish-red streaks were now bloody stains in her black hair. He stopped as she approached, putting her hands on her knees and panting.

"You're late," he said.

Kimiko laughed. A full belly-laugh that still sounded a bit like music. And, like music, it soothed the savage beast within him. The tension left his muscles, and the heat dissipated from his face.

"Yeah," she said. "I am."

"It's okay," he said. "I was late, too."

"Well, as long as we're on the same page," despite the terrible rain, the asshole car, and the poor situation, she beamed at him. He couldn't help but smile back.

"How did you find me?" he asked, pulling his phone out and checking the time. 1 o' clock. "I left, like, 15 minutes ago."

"This street only goes two directions," she said, "And I knew which way you _didn't_ go, since I came that way. Ren said you left, and so I started running."

"I like Ren," Davis remarked, mostly to himself.

"Me, too. Eiko seemed pretty pissed, though."

"I flipped her off," Davis shrugged.

Kimiko's smile grew even wider, "Good for you! God, I wish I could do that. But, you know, there's the whole paycheck thing."

"She'll probably refuse me service," he said.

"Nah. She won't like it, but so long as you bring in money, she'll give you something to drink. The greedy ones always do," Kimiko stood up straight and stretched in the rain. It was an odd sight, to say the least.

"So. Where to? You said you had someplace cheap?" He asked. "That is, of course, assuming we're still on for today."

"I did, and we are," she said, standing beside him and wrapping an arm around his waist. He put his own arm around her shoulders. She was completely soaked, and her sweater squished under his fingers like a sponge. He imagined that his hoodie was much the same way under hers. "I was thinking a picnic."

Davis laughed, "All right. Where will we have it?"

"Follow me. I've got the perfect place," she said, and took a step forward. He stepped with her, letting her guide him down the sidewalk. For starting out terribly, this date was shaping up into something quite enjoyable.

"So why were you so late, anyway?" he asked.

"You're going to have to wait and see," she replied.

And that was fine with him.

* * *

><p>"What the fuck?"<p>

The angemon stood tall in the rain, its cloak falling to the ground. It had to be an angemon. It looked too similar to be anything else. Though, there definitely was something different about it. He wore a heavy pauldron on his left shoulder, golden and inlaid with glowing green gems. It connected to a heavy, winged gauntlet on the same hand. His feet, shins and knees were covered by metal boots and thick greaves made of the same etched gold and inlaid with the same glowing green stones. He held his right hand forward, and with a flash, he held a staff: long, etched with those same runes, and topped with another green stone, this one shining like a beacon.

The angemon swept the staff to his side and half-kneeled, like a sprinter.

"Oh, shit," TK said. "Patamon! Get out of the car!" He scrambled, unbuckling himself. He heard the _zip_ of Patamon's belt sliding up as well. TK grabbed his partner and pulled on the door handle. It didn't move.

Of course not. The door was locked. He pulled on the tab to unlock it.

The angemon charged, raising his staff high, like a blade.

TK unlocked the door and opened it.

The angemon swung down.

TK jumped.

The center of the car crumpled, the engine block splitting in two. The weak frame buckled and the whole thing twisted into a strange V-shape. The sound—it was like TK's car was screaming. The radio died with a whimper and he rolled on the wet pavement, gripping Patamon close to his chest to protect him. He sat up and let Patamon go, staring at the car and the digimon.

"Why?" TK shouted, crawling to his knees. "Why would you do that?"

The angemon didn't answer, and neither did its hooded master. The digimon just turned toward him, leveling the staff at his face.

Patamon leaped forward, and TK's digivice began to vibrate, growing warm in the cool rain. With a flash of white light, he was Angemon, and he plowed into his counterpart's chest, grappling him. The staff flew from the enemy angemon's hands, and TK could immediately see the difference between the two fighting. It was the armor. Angemon had a golden, metal glove on his right hand, and a pair of golden boots, but the other was decked out like he was going to war. They tussled on the ground, fists flying and wings flailing, while TK watched in awe.

_What the hell is going on?_

He turned to the hooded figure, who just watched. Its arms were crossed, as if judging a contest. He could run over there and beat him down. Angemon seemed to be holding his own well enough. If he could bring down the master, he could bring down the digimon. It took both partners' energies to digivolve. Without the human, that angemon would just revert to its rookie form. As if it sensed his plan, the figure turned toward TK, and even though he couldn't see its face, he got a distinct feeling that charging over there would be a very bad idea.

So instead, he turned back to the brothers Angemon, who were still on the ground. Angemon—TK's angemon—was atop his foe, straddling his waist, one hand on his chest, and pummeling him with his golden-gloved fist. The enemy angemon swept his gauntlet out, smashing it across Angemon's face, and sending him reeling. He used the opportunity to throw him off and stand. One bright flash later, and his staff was back in his hand. He swung down at Angemon's head with a two-handed strike.

_Clang!_

With another flash of light, Angemon's own staff was in-hand, and blocking the attack. He rose to his feet and they proceeded to fight with their weapons, like feudal monks sparring. Each of the enemy angemon's attacks were furious and strong; kill-strikes aimed for vital organs: the head, heart and liver. He stabbed and slashed with the staff, wielding it almost as a spear, roaring with each lunge or swipe. Angemon blocked the attacks, his face set and his eyes following his enemy's weapon. A few times he tried to strike, but they were attacks for the shin or arm, intended to disable, not kill. They were dancing, the two of them. Twin warriors, dueling, fighting for dominance.

A lucky hit, too quick for the enemy angemon to block, caught him on the helmet, knocking him back. Angemon took advantage, sweeping his legs out from under him and knocking him to the ground. He directed one end of his golden quarterstaff at his foe's throat, and asked, "Why are you doing this?"

Angemon was panting with exertion. He may have had experience with combat, but he hadn't fought anyone in years. He'd been living a life on the couch, watching TV, or riding shotgun in TK's car. He wasn't the fighter he'd been before. The other was still strong, his eyes bright and glistening. His breaths were still even, his body hard and trained.

"Because it is my duty!" the enemy angemon shouted. He summoned his staff and swept it out, forcing Angemon back a few steps. With a beat of his wings, he was standing once more. He leaped forward, thrusting his staff like a spear and aiming for Angemon's heart. He dodged, but too late realized that the attack was a feint. The enemy angemon's staff whirled through the air and smashed across Angemon's helmet with a loud _clang!_

Angemon stumbled, losing his own staff.

His foe whirled his staff once more, coming down on the helmet and knocking Angemon to his knees. The helm cracked and a large chunk clattered to the rain-soaked pavement. He looked up at his opponent, a single bright blue eye wide and staring.

A third strike, upwards on Angemon's chin, knocked him back. He fell bleeding and battered, onto his back. His hands grasped for his staff, but it was far away, and he was weak.

Quick, and without remorse, like a Spartan warrior, the enemy angemon directed the green gem at the tip of his staff and thrust. It entered just beneath Angemon's ribs, and the digimon let out a howl of pain.

"Angemon!" TK shouted, rushing forward.

Angemon struggled, tried to grip the now-spear in his foe's hands to tear it from himself. The other snarled and twisted the weapon. TK's partner let out another cry.

"Angemon!" TK's feet carried him faster than he thought he could go, but he stopped fast, sliding in the slick rain. The angemon turned toward him, directing his gauntleted hand at his face. The green, inset gems shone bright, and the angemon's expression was grim.

"TK, run…" Angemon muscled through the pain and summoned forth the words. "…get out of here!"

TK looked up at the gauntleted hand—stared death in the face—and said, "No."

Something lit up inside him.

This wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

His crest, hanging around his neck, began to warm his skin.

"Enough!"

The crest cooled, and both TK and his enemy turned to the hooded figure.

"Leave them. I've seen what I needed," the figure said. It was distinctly male, with somewhat of an English accent. Or was it English? TK couldn't quite tell.

With a flash, the golden staff-spear was gone, and both Angemon and TK let out sighs of relief. The armored angemon approached its master, who laid a pale hand against its stomach.

TK blinked. They were gone. Did he miss it? They were just…gone. He ignored the questions forming in his mind and rushed to Angemon's side. The digimon began to glow, and shrank into Patamon once more. TK picked him up and held him close. The wound was still there, but thankfully smaller in this smaller body. Still, it was beginning to bleed. The little digimon groaned in his arms.

"You're going to be okay, Patamon," TK said. He hoped he was right.

He held the little digimon in one hand, and reached into his pocket for his phone with the other. He had to lean over it so he could see and the rain didn't cover it. He searched his contacts. Someone. Someone with a car.

He hit send and put the phone to his ear.

"Come on come on come on…" he said, biting his lower lip and bouncing on the balls of his feet. Patamon groaned again, so he stopped the bouncing.

"Hello?" Sora's voice would have been angelic, but TK was sick of angels at the moment.

"Sora! This is TK! I need help!"

"TK? What's going on?"

TK looked up at the street sign nearby, "I'm on the corner of 5th and Nagai. I need you to get out here, now!"

"What happened?"

"Patamon's hurt. Bad. I need to get him to Gennai," he said, turning toward the mangled, twisted hunk of metal that was once his car.

"I'll be right there. 5th and Nagai?"

"Yeah. Heading toward Tai's place."

Sora confirmed, and hung up the phone. TK shoved his back into his pocket and cradled his digimon. The little guy's eyes were beginning to roll back into his head.

"Patamon!" he shouted, and the eyes came back. "Patamon, stay with me. You're going to be okay!"

"…TK?" the little digimon asked.

"You'll be okay, buddy."

God, he hoped so.

* * *

><p>Kimiko had a tree house. The rain fell down in sheets all around them, but up in the tree, with both a wooden roof and layer upon layer of branches above them, Davis and Kimiko were dry. It was a small tree-house, maybe ten by five feet, built between two thick evergreens, the trunks literally growing up through the floor and ceiling. It had been there so long, the bark (and presumably some of the tree) was actually growing around the wooden planks. A bag of charcoal sat in one corner, and a small, portable radio played Queen's "We are the Champions" in the other; it was on a Queen playlist from her thumb drive. Davis leaned against one of the tree trunks, his legs crossed and watching Kimiko, who knelt across from him, tending to a small hibachi grill. Two small salmon steaks swam in tin-foil boats filled with melted butter, hissing and crackling over the hot orange coals. Beside them, fruit-and-vegetable skewers roasted, their edges blackening.<p>

The scent was near-heaven. This is what had kept her—the picnic preparations. She woke up later than expected, and had to fillet the fish and slice up the veggies herself, as well as get all the equipment out here without soaking the charcoal or ruining the radio.

"So you've seriously never grilled before?" Kimiko asked. "But you're…a guy. Isn't that supposed to be a staple hobby of your gender or something?"

Davis smiled, "Guess I'm not really a traditionalist."

"Neither am I. Tradition's over-rated," she flipped the fruit-and-veggie skewers over. "But…you've been to a barbecue before, right? Eaten grilled food."

"A couple times," Davis thought back. Most of his friends lived in apartments, where there was little room to put a barbecue. And his own family…no. They weren't barbecue people. He'd been to communal parties at the park before, for his soccer team, where they'd cooked hot dogs and burgers and whatnot. "But not really."

"Then you are in for a treat. Barbecue in the rain is the best."

Davis raised an eyebrow, "that seems counter-intuitive. Shouldn't it be best in the summer time? With sunshiney weather?"

"It does seem that way, doesn't it?" She shook one of the tinfoil boats, loosening the salmon's grip on the bottom. "But, in fact, it's the cold that makes it better. When you're hot, you want something cold. A popsicle, or a cold soda or ice cream or something. But when you're cold…it's like how hot chocolate is best when it's snowing outside. The rain…it clears the air. Everything's cool and fresh, and a nice warm steak or a cut of salmon…it's like art. All about contrast."

Davis understood. One could chock it up to 'opposites attract' or something. And as he thought about it, it just made more and more sense. The thought of a cool drink of water after a summer game, or—as she said—a cup of hot chocolate in the winter. It all made sense.

Kimiko was staring at her food, a look of dedication and care in her eyes. He knew then that she would have the same look no matter what she was doing. Whether she was painting a picture or skipping stones, she was always going to do her best. He shifted forward, onto his knees in front of the hibachi, and she looked up.

"Want me to teach you?" She asked.

"Just what I was going to ask," he replied.

"Well," she began, and Davis listened as she explained the nuances.

* * *

><p><em>The Chronicles of the Circle<em> was one of Gennai's favorite books. Written in that strange time in the digital world's lifetime when the advent of books was beginning to usurp scrolls—as well as a shift in languages—it was a beautiful piece of history, written almost as an epic poem. It was the tale of the Circle of Five, a group of magical digimon that inhabited the digital world. Yet, at the same time, while telling the story of each member of the Circle, it was, itself, a circular story. One could start anywhere within the book's pages, with any sentence, skipping from the end of the book to the beginning, and when you reached your initial sentence, the story would be told. Each time Gennai read the book, he started from a new point. And each time he read it, he came to a new conclusion about the characters and the story.

This would be his fifth time reading the tale. And he was beginning from Witchmon's point of view. She was the patron of wind within the five, and was known as the wildest and most rambunctious of the group. Rather than take on the responsibilities of their order, she spent her days soaring across the digital world on her flying broom, adventuring and meeting digimon from every corner of the globe. Gennai knew how her tale would end. He'd read four times before. But as his eyes scanned over her exploits in the small town of Tenuto, how she slew the Tree of Anguish and saved the town's citizens, he was learning new things about the character.

It truly was a wonderful book.

He reached to his tea, now lukewarm, sitting on the table in front of his couch, and raised it to his lips, taking a sip. Having defeated the tree, Witchmon knelt over an injured human girl that had stumbled into the digital world. In fact, she was the cause of all Tenuto's problems. She'd come to the village and, not understanding the digimon or their world, she'd awakened the Tree of Anguish and been swallowed by it, the Tree's first victim. She now lay here before Witchmon and all of Tenuto, near death. The villagers begged she leave her to her fate. The girl, unconscious, said nothing.

_She called silence to the crowd,_

"_Who are you to judge this girl?_

"_A stranger here, in this land."_

_The crowd's voices fell silent,_

_They could not argue with her,_

_She knelt before the doomed girl,_

_And laid her hands upon her,_

_She called upon the wind's heart,_

_She begged the girl live again,_

_The winds said, with wispy gasps,_

"_The human is not our child,_

"_She must pay for ignorance,_

"_For her curiosity."_

"_Then make her pay," said the Witch,_

"_Take from her what she treasures,_

"_But grant her life, I beg you."_

_The winds agreed to the deal,_

_And with their aid, she revived,_

_But with her return, she paid,_

_And when she tried to go home,_

_Back to the world of humans,_

_She found that skill lost to him,_

_For to return from beyond,_

_One must forsake the winds' toll,_

"Gennai!" a voice outside called his name. He looked up from his book. Who was that? A boy, and he thought he recognized the voice, but it was muffled. Veemon was asleep in one of the back rooms. It wasn't him, was it?

"Gennai!" it came again. "Help!" He closed the book and rose. That was TK's voice.

The boy's knocks were rapid, frantic. Gennai came to the door and opened it. TK and Sora stood there, panting. In TK's arms, Patamon gasped for air, his own breaths rapid and labored. A small puncture in his abdomen leaked a trail of blood that stained TK's arm red.

"Yggdrasil," he said, and he stood aside for the two humans to enter. They did so, and he followed, shutting the door as he went.

"Sora. Clear off the table," he commanded. She did as he asked, placing the teacup atop the _Chronicles_ and moving them to the bookshelf. He was loath to damage the book's cover with a moisture ring from the cup, but Patamon's health was a bit more important at the moment.

He swept the blanket that lay as a cover on the couch onto the table, and directed TK to lay patamon down upon it.

"Sora. There is a faucet in the kitchen. It doesn't get hot water, though. Heat some on the stove, in the teapot, and bring me some towels," he pointed her in the direction of the kitchen and she went. He turned to TK, "what in the hell happened?"

"I…he was stabbed," TK said.

"I can see that," Gennai snapped back. The boy reacted as if stung.

"As Angemon," he continued. "He was stabbed as Angemon. We were driving to Kari's, to visit her. And there was this guy standing in the middle of the road. There was so much rain, and he was wearing a cloak. And he had a digimon! They were standing there, and then the digimon took off its cloak, and it was an angemon! Except…it was different. It was all covered in gold armor, and these weird, glowing green gems. He attacked us, and Patamon protected me. They fought, and we almost had him, but he stabbed Angemon. Right under the ribs. And I almost used my crest! We would have won, but the guy—in the cloak—he told his angemon to stop. And then they just…disappeared. Just, like, I blinked and they were gone."

Gennai noted each detail as it came up. A human and a digimon. Partnered, based on the situation. But the digimon was an Angemon. It was exceedingly rare to see such a partnership. And the green stones set in the gold armor. What might those be? Noqual was a green stone that emerged naturally in the digital world, could this team have taken some from a mine? And the gold, could it be gold digizoid? No other metal would make sense, but the only person he knew capable of forging something from gold digizoid was Tyron.

But all the thought process was cut short and forgotten upon hearing the final detail.

Gennai's eyes widened, "They just disappeared?"

"I just blinked and they were gone," TK replied.

_No. That's not…it can't be him._

He shook off the shock. Even if it was him, Gennai couldn't focus on it right now. Patamon lay dying before him. He looked up from the little digimon toward the kitchen. "How's that water coming, Sora?"

She rushed out with a warm, wet towel. "warm enough for this, but still not hot."

Gennai took it and said, "Good. Get more towels. And get a bowl out for the water when it's hot."

"Is he going to be okay?" TK asked.

"If we can keep him awake, I think so. It's easier to fight for your life if you're conscious," Gennai began wiping at the wound, cleaning away the blood. He pressed down on the wound a bit when he came close. It drew blood, and Patamon let out a yelp.

TK bit his lower lip and watched Gennai's work. He placed a hand on Patamon's head and said, "It'll be okay, buddy. You just have to stay with us. Can you do that?"

Patamon moaned. Gennai pushed on the wound with the towel, drawing blood again, and he shouted in pain, his eyes shooting open.

TK's eyes snapped up to Gennai's, fury ignited like fire within them, "Why did you do that?"

"Woke him up," the old man responded. He removed the towel and laid both his hands on Patamon's abdomen. "You keep him that way. I have to take a look at what's going on inside."

"What?" TK asked. Gennai ignored the question.

"…TK?" Patamon asked.

"Patamon. Patamon, you're all right!"

"TK…where are we?"

"We're at Gennai's. We need to keep you awake, buddy," TK placed a hand on Patamon's head.

"Awake? No…I'm cold, TK. Tired…" the little digimon's voice began to drift.

"Patamon!" TK shouted at him. The little digimon's eyes lit up again. "Patamon! You will not fall asleep! Do you hear me? I will not ALLOW it! You are _my_ partner, and I refuse to let you die again!" His cheeks were turning red, and tears were beginning to form in his eyes. "You will stay AWAKE, damn it!"

Patamon looked up at him, his eyes only half-lucid, and forced a nod, swallowing hard. "Awake."

"Awake," TK said in a wavering voice.

Sora came out with a pile of towels and laid them beside Gennai. Her own eyes were hard, if on the edge of despair, like TK. Without a look to either of them, she returned to the kitchen, determination evident in every step.

Gennai closed his eyes, his hands upon the little digimon. He hadn't done this in a long time. There were many gifts granted to him as the Watcher of the digital world. He could see beyond the physical, through it. He could see with crystal clarity what was happening a thousand miles away if he focused.

At the moment, he only needed to see a few inches below his hands.

He took in a deep breath, and opened it: his Third Eye. The gift of Yggdrasil, the ability to _see_, the spiritual eye that could view anything, anywhere within the digital world. With it, he gazed into Patamon, through the fur and flesh, to see the wound. His third eye painted the picture for him. He saw the staff-spear enter Angemon's chest, saw the shredded flesh it left in its wake. The green stone acted as a spearhead, carving a pathway. He watched as the staff twisted, and a shard of the stone embedded itself in Angemon. That is what was killing him now. The wound could be treated by mundane means. No arteries were cut, no vital organs punctured. But that stone would bring him closer to death's door with each gasping breath.

Gennai's eyes fluttered open, and his third closed. "This is bad. It's a relative miracle that he's alive still, now."

"That's us," Patamon groaned. "Full of miracles."

Gennai almost smiled.

"Can you help us?" TK asked.

Gennai closed his eyes again, and pressed his lips together, "not me. This is beyond my skill. But I know who can." He opened them and glanced to the book lying on his shelf, the tea cup upon it.

"Then get them," TK demanded. "Now."

"She won't come here. And I don't know that she will help, anyway," Gennai couldn't help but think of the end of that book. The end of her story.

"Then take me to her," TK demanded. "Take us."

Gennai nodded, "Yes. Yes, I'll take you." He looked to the boy, and held him fast with his gaze, "but you must know that she doesn't just grant favors. She'll expect something in return. Something valuable."

"Fine," TK said. "Whatever. Just take us."

Sora entered the room with a bowl of hot water. She set it beside Patamon and said, "I'll go. It's not like I can do any good here. I might be able to help convince her."

"Right. Let's clean Patamon up first," Gennai took the towels and the hot water and cleaned around the wound while TK and Sora talked with the digimon to keep him awake. He strained as Gennai got close to the puncture, but muscled through it.

At the end, he covered the wound with one of the wet towels, "All right. TK, you take Patamon. Then, both of you, hold my hands," he stood and offered both. TK picked up Patamon, who groaned, and took Gennai's hand. Sora took the other. "You might want to close your eyes. Humans don't generally find shifting pleasurable.

It was true. He'd only shifted with human companions a few times before, and they hadn't had anything good to say about it.

TK did. He also held his breath. Sora did the same. Gennai focused, closed his eyes and opened his third again. He saw the hut, on the cliff side. The ocean splashed against the rocks, sending spray up into the air. She stood outside the hut.

She was waiting.

And in the next few moments, they were there. TK and Sora were gripping his hands hard, and they both gasped and coughed upon hitting ground once more. Humans were not built to undergo the strains of shifting from one point to another.

Upon opening his eyes, Gennai found himself on the cliff, overlooking the ocean. The sky here was covered in dark clouds that threatened to downpour at any moment.

Here they were, on the other side of the world.

About fifty feet away, a small shack sat at the edge of the cliff. Smoke poured from the center of the roof, which was just a hole for that exact purpose. A hunched, robed figure stood outside, watching them. It was a woman. Or rather, a woman-shaped digimon. She had blue, wrinkled skin and dirty, flaxen hair.

"That's her?" Sora asked.

"Hagmon," Gennai said. He pursed his lips. He'd been here only once before, and had forgotten. The witch's yellow eyes glared out at them from her place beside the hut.

_How he changed you_.

"Let's go," TK said, and began marching toward the old woman and her hut. They reached her and got a better look at her. She was ugly and old, with warts all over her face. The sclera of her eyes was turning yellow, and her teeth were already there, and were well on their way to green. She had a huge hooked nose, and her dark hands ended in knobby, too-long fingers. Her eyes went straight to Gennai as they approached,

"What do ya want, Watcher? I've done nothin' wrong," she croaked. Jealousy burned in those yellowing eyes.

"We need your aid," Gennai responded, standing tall.

Hagmon's eyes jumped to Sora, then TK, then Patamon in his arms, "I see a premature angel, yet he don't fly." She approached, and saw the blood-stained towel. "I see. A battle, but not a victory. Bring'im in. We don't want the salt in the air causing any more harm, do we?" She cackled and walked inside the hut. It had no door.

They all entered, TK first, and it looked just as it had the last time he'd come. The ground was covered in fish and bird bones, and several of the creatures—dead—hung on strings from the ceiling. The whole room was smoky from a dying fire in the center of the room, mostly coals now, and TK coughed a bit as he entered, as did Patamon. Piles of junk leaned against the walls, and the only semblance of furniture was a single table and its paired chair, both older than Gennai. The table was littered with knife-marks, and the offending knife sat buried an inch deep in the wood, beside the old carcass of a hedgehog.

"So ya need the little angel healed, then? Beyond your skills, is it, Watcher? I 'spect so. Your hands never were ones for healin'. That was always Nerina, what learned the useful skills," the old digimon's voice was like gravel being raked over bones. "Put 'im on the table. I'll take a look."

TK was hesitant to do so, but followed Hagmon's instructions. She approached and tossed the towel off into one of her rubbish heaps.

"Ooh," she said, almost excited. She extended one of her fingers and dipped the long, broken nail into the wound. Patamon yelped. Gennai looked away. It was almost too much. Ancient memories were bubbling forth.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?" TK shouted.

She drew out the finger and tasted the blood on the nail, "checkin' the damage. Not all of us can just _peer_ inta people like some kind'a voyeur." She licked her lips. Her eyes widened and she gasped. "Abysium! Watcher, ya bring Abysium inta my home? How _dare_ you!"

She pushed TK aside and rushed to Gennai, jabbing a bony finger at him. "Vile beast! Immortal, yet so petty as to try to poison me! I won't have it! Out, fiend! Out! Back to the darkness with ya! Back to the ocean!"

Gennai stepped back, "Abysium? No, I thought…it's Noqual, isn't it?"

"Noqual! Ha! Ya think I wouldn't recognize Abysium when I taste it? Yer anger must have no depths, Watcher!"

"I swear I didn't know! I thought it was Noqual when I saw it!"

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Sora stomped forth, between them. "What does this 'abysium' have to do with anything?"

"It's a mineral. Can only be found in the darkest of worlds, like the Dark Ocean. It's poisonous to all forms of life," Gennai explained.

"It's a venom! Sorcery forged by the Nightmare to kill us all!" Hagmon shrieked. "And I'll not remove it! I'll not have it in my home!"

"What?" TK's jaw almost dropped.

"What do I care if one little patamon dies from his battle-wound? Ya Should've trained 'im better, should've known not to tangle with anyone wielding abysium," she said.

"You have to help him!" he screamed.

"Why?" She asked. "What makes _you_ important? Why should I risk my life to save your little rat's?" Hagmon looked up at TK, and the wind outside picked up, whistling past the hole in the roof and the door in the wall.

"He's the digidestined of Hope!" Sora jumped in. Hagmon's eyes lit upon her.

"Come again?"

TK pulled his crest out from under his shirt, and the old witch's eyes flicked to it.

"Ooh…the Chosen One of Hope," she tasted the words, her mood shifting from dark to enthralled. The wind died down. "Yes. Yes, I think we can work out a deal."

"A deal. Good, what do you want?" TK asked.

"Give me that crest, and I'll heal your friend," she said.

"NO!" Gennai stepped forward, this time, his voice booming like a drum.

"Sorry, but this ain't your decision, Watcher," she spat the last word like a curse.

"TK, don't do it. Even if Patamon dies, he'll come back in Primary Village. This isn't worth losing your crest," he said. His eyes were steel.

"True," Hagmon replied. "But who knows how long that's going to take. You know, well as me, Watcher, that there's no telling when eggs come back. Humans have died waiting for their digimon to come back."

"Why do you want the crest?" TK asked, staring into her eyes.

"Protection, child," she replied. TK gave her a quizzical look.

"The crest will act as a reliquary for her," Gennai said. "It will protect her from the abysium's taint so long as she doesn't touch it."

"Protection," Hagmon repeated.

"Don't give it to her," Gennai pleaded. "It truly isn't worth it, TK."

TK looked at Gennai, then at Patamon, gasping for breath on the dirty, scarred table.

He took off the crest, and offered it to Hagmon. She snatched it up, looping the cord around her wrist a few times and admiring the tag.

"Good. Deal, then," she said, and approached the table once more. She rapped on it a couple times. The hedgehog carcass sprung to life, and Gennai realized it wasn't a carcass, but rather just an extremely malnourished hedgehog. "You! We need to heal this baby angel, here."

"Payment?" the hedgehog asked. Its voice was high and raspy.

"Been offered," Hagmon dangled the crest before her familiar.

"Shiny," it marveled, and approached Patamon. "Heavy wound. Powerful spell."

"Agreed," Hagmon picked up the hedgehog, ignoring the quills piercing her skin, and placed it in her opposite palm. With her injured hand, she began to wave her hand above her head, in swooping gestures. The hedgehog began to glow, and the wind outside started to pick up once more. The hedgehog grew brighter with each gesture, and the wind grew stronger, shaking the entire hut. Soon, the little animal was a tiny star in her hand, and the wind reached its crescendo, howling and tearing at the sides of the building. She ceased her waving and placed her hand and the tiny animal on Patamon's belly. The wind rushed in through the roof and engulfed the three o them, like a tornado. The junk and bones that surrounded them whirled up into a deadly whirlwind. Patamon screamed from within the tornado, and TK rushed forward to help him. Sora pulled him back. TK shouted for them to stop, that the deal was off. Patamon continued to scream.

After maybe thirty seconds, he silenced, and the whirling wall of refuse dropped around them. TK ran to his friend's side. The hedgehog crawled off the little digimon and nestled up next to the knife, looking as much a carcass as it had before.

The wound was gone, and Patamon was breathing easy. Above him, a tiny green shard floated and glowed with a faint, sickening light. Hagmon put out a hand, the one which possessed the crest wrapped around its wrist. The abysium floated over her open palm. The crest began to glow, and the abysium's glow changed from green to a warm, sun-like yellow. It crumbled to dust that fell into her palm, and she dumped it on the floor with everything else.

"He'll be fine," shesaid. "He'll sleep the rest of the day, but'll be fine. Now leave."

TK scooped his digimon up and turned to Hagmon, "Thank you."

"Leave!" She screamed, like a hawk, at them.

They all rushed outside, the wind having died down once more. Gennai cast one more look over his shoulder at Hagmon. She sat in her chair, staring at the crest around her wrist.

_What have you become?_ He thought. _You were once brave, strong, caring. Everything in the book and more. How could you have let him do this to you?_

There was no response, for he had asked no question aloud.

Gennai offered his hands. TK and Sora took them.

"You're an idiot," Gennai said as they arrived in his bloody living room.

"I don't care," was TK's response. "Patamon's okay. That's all that matters. He's okay."

"Sora, please tell me you understand," Gennai said. "You couldn't give up your crest like that, could you?"

"I…" she began, but stopped. "Come on, TK." Together, they headed for the door.

TK turned around just as they opened the door, and looked up into Gennai's eyes.

"Thank you," he said.

Gennai didn't respond.

They closed the door, and he turned to the bookshelf. The teacup left a ring of moisture on the book's cover. It mattered little, now. He shelved it, letting his fingers rest on its spine for a few moments after.

The end of Witchmon's story was the same as the end for all of the Five. Separate, their power could not be unified, and Castle Witchelny was overcome by the dark wizard Barbamon. He sought them out, one by one, and tore their lives down around them, destroying them outright or transforming them into what Gennai had seen today.

* * *

><p>The salmon and skewers lay half-eaten beside the cooling hibachi. They had been divine, the salmon cooked perfectly and the flavors of the fruits and veggies playing off each other like music. Davis even remembered some of what Kimiko taught him about working the grill and cooking the food.<p>

But he was a little preoccupied at the moment. As warm and wonderful as the food had been, Kimiko was warmer, and ever-so-much more wonderful. Her tongue ran along the inside of his mouth, sliding across the inside of his teeth. One hand ran through his hair, and the other wrapped around his neck to keep him from getting away. Of course, it would have been hard to get away, as he was lying on his back and she was straddling his torso.

People had always told him that the second date was the earliest one should go for a kiss, and even then, it should only be a peck as you walk her to her door. It was like a tradition, they said. That's just the way it was done. And, in the past, that's exactly what had happened for Davis. Granted, his relationships didn't usually last beyond two or three dates, but it was still tradition.

Kimiko was definitely not one for tradition. Davis's own hands were on her sides, almost as if to keep _her _from pulling away.

She parted from him, planting a smaller kiss at the corner of his mouth, like a signature, and leaned her forehead against his, their noses touching.

"Wow," said Davis.

"Good wow, or bad wow?" Kimiko asked.

"Definitely good," he said, and he leaned up to brush his lips against hers again.

She accepted it and smiled, "don't think this makes me easy or anything. I've just been wanting to kiss you for a long time."

"Guess I should have seen it earlier," he replied. "Almost a year, now. Going to Starbucks almost every day, and I never really saw you."

"I know, right?" She smiled again, "even after you started walking me to work. You must be pretty thick."

"Never been known for being the smart guy," he said, and leaned into her once more. She tipped them both onto their sides and their mouths became one once more.

The radio started up Queen's "Somebody to love."


	6. Ch 5: After the Storm

Be sure to check out the side-story I'm writing for War of the Crests. Link in my profile!

* * *

><p>War of the Crests<p>

Part 1: Light

-Chapter 5: After the Storm-

The clouds were gone by Sunday morning and TK was grounded. The police report said he got into a wreck, and the other guy drove off without checking to see if he was all right. He didn't know if the cops actually believed the story or not, but there was little other explanation he could give. "An angel charged me and smashed it into a V-shape with a golden staff" was a little farfetched, to say the least.

He'd told his mom the truth, though she still hadn't worked out whether she believed him either. It had been four years since anyone in this world had seen anything even close to a digimon attack, and most people had blocked such things from their memories. And while his mom got to live with the constant knowledge of digimon, thanks to Patamon, the concept that there were other, less friendly varieties was a mostly forgotten concept.

And so TK was grounded.

However, being grounded had never meant much in TK's life. His folks separated when he was a kid, and while his mom took him, his dad had Matt. TK was essentially raised as an only child, and like most only children, he got the boon of being the only object of affection in his mom's life. Being grounded essentially meant that he couldn't leave the apartment except for school—which didn't bar others from coming to visit him.

Thus, the particularly large gathering in his living room: Tai and Matt sat on TK's couch, talking about something that involved a lot of gestures and enthusiasm. Sora sat on the counter-top that walled off TK's kitchen and talked with Joe and Izzy, who was scanning through something on his tablet as he talked. Davis stood on the patio outside, looking out over the "view" they had, which consisted mostly of other apartment buildings and a street. Cody joined him. They didn't speak, just looked at the horizon and the passing people and cars. Kari stood beside TK, her hand clasping his. She was the only other person he'd told about the events yesterday.

A few digimon joined them as well. Along with Patamon (who was exceptionally tired, but awake and healthy), Gatomon snuck over, and Cody brought Armadillomon in his duffel bag.

Ken and Yolei were the only ones missing, as they had to wait for Yolei to get off work. TK looked at all his friends, scanning the room.

"It's been a long time," Kari said.

"Hm?"

"I said it's been a long time. Since we all got together like this for…you know, digimon-related stuff," she elaborated.

"Yeah," TK replied. "It's nice, though it's a shame that it's bad news that brought us together."

Kari's hand squeezed his, "don't worry. We'll figure this out."

"I know," TK said. "It's just—" before he could tell her how frightened he was—how purely terrified he'd been—the door opened and Yolei walked in, wiping her shoes off at the door. She was smiling, shiny-white teeth parting as she said "hello" to everyone. Ken was decidedly less enthusiastic. He still greeted everyone with a smile, but TK could see concern in his eyes. He knew something was up. Wormmon poked his head out of the front pocket of Ken's hoodie, and crawled out onto his shoulder as they entered.

TK parted from Kari and said hello, telling them to sit where they wanted. Seeing the final arrivals, Davis and Cody entered, shutting the sliding-glass door that led to the balcony. Once everyone was situated, TK took a stand in front of the television. All eyes were on him, and he wanted to squirm under their gaze. It really had been a long time since they all got together under such dire circumstances. He took a deep breath, collected his thoughts, and began,

"Yesterday," he said, "I was attacked by a digimon."

A few eyes widened, a few jaws dropped, and there were many "what?"s. Ken didn't react, only nodding. Izzy likewise appeared to confirm something in his mind, and he typed something on the tablet one-handed. Cody, stoic as a tree, shifted from one foot to the other. TK knew him well enough to see it as a sign of surprise.

"I left the house, going to Kari's. And on the way, at a stop light, two people just appeared in the middle of the road. They were cloaked, so I couldn't see their faces. One was about my size, I think, and the other was easily eight or more feet tall. It was a human and a digimon. The human pointed at me, and the digimon dropped its cloak. It was…an angemon."

More gasps. More typing on Izzy's end.

"He was wearing some kind of armor, with glowing green stones. He summoned his staff—it was topped with a green stone, too—and charged my car. I got out in time, but he practically ripped it in half. Patamon—he charged the angemon and digivolved. They fought, but this other angemon was, I don't know. More powerful? Better trained? Whatever it was, he won. He stabbed Patamon in the chest, and then the human just told him to stop, as if he proved something. Then they just left, the same way they came. They disappeared into thin air.

"I called Sora. She was the only one with a car I could think of. She picked me up and we traveled to the digital world—to Gennai's cottage."

Davis shifted at that.

"He looked at the wound, and he cleaned it, but he couldn't heal Patamon. We—he took us to another part of the digital world, where we met another digimon who he said could heal Patamon. She did…but she needed payment. I—I gave her…" he looked away, down at the floor beside him, "my crest."

"What?" Matt stood up from his place on the couch, his eyes wide. "You gave some digimon your crest?"

"She wouldn't heal him without it! I had to," TK retorted.

"You don't know that he would have even died," Matt snapped. "And even if he did, what does it matter? He would have come back through primary village!"

"There was something in his chest. A shard, from the green stone on the angemon's staff. They said it was some kind of poison, that he'd die if it wasn't removed. I can't remember what they called it, but—"

"I do," Sora jumped in. "Abysium. They said it was called abysium."

Gatomon's ears perked up, and Wormmon's eyes widened.

"I know that name," Wormmon said. "I remember hearing about it, a long time ago. I don't remember much, but it's dangerous. I remember that."

"It's more than dangerous," Gatomon said. She rubbed her hands together. "Myotismon had a cache of abysium in his castle. He used it…he tortured digimon with it, cutting them or…making them swallow shards of it. He said it came from the Dark Area, that any prolonged exposure would kill even the most powerful digimon. Even he wouldn't touch it to his skin. He always used tools to handle it."

Matt silenced, but still glared at TK as he sat down.

TK pressed his lips together, "I had to do it."

Ken nodded, understanding, and changed the subject, "Regardless of TK's actions, what we should be really focusing on here is the attacker. An angemon. And a human."

"Hate to say it, but that doesn't tell us much," Davis said.

"No," Izzy interjected. He brought up the tablet and began to read from it. "We know quite a bit. For instance, we know he's partnered with a digimon, and we know that digimon's an angemon. We know he has the ability to appear and disappear. That either means invisibility or some kind of teleportation. I've never heard of an angemon turning invisible, but we know that those of us with a d-3 can open gates between our world and the digital world. I'm going to say it's something like that, only more advanced. We also know that the angemon was wearing some kind of armor, specifically with green stones set into it. His staff also had this "abysium" attached to its head. If we learn more about these things—figure out where someone could get this armor and these stones, and learn if that sort of instant teleportation is possible, then I think we can find our man."

"Glad to have you on board, Izzy," Tai said from the couch, looking back at his old friend.

Izzy looked around, realizing that everyone was staring at him, and blushed a little, "Or, you know, something like that."

"No, you're right, Izzy." Cody spoke up. The kid had grown in the past few years, and was almost as tall as TK. "If we follow the clues, we'll come to the right conclusion. All we need is a plan."

"Got one in mind?" Tai asked.

"Yes, I do. TK and I go back to the digital world to talk with Gennai. Even without a crest, he and I have Shakkoumon on our side if we run into any opposition. We can ask him about the armor and the stones, and the teleportation. In the meanwhile, Izzy, Ken, the two of you can study the d-3s and try to come up with something, maybe explain away the teleportation on this side. Kari and Yolei, you guys should scout around together, see if you can't figure out if anyone saw anything. Every piece of information helps. If you run into trouble, you've got Silphymon. Davis, you and Veemon stay with Ken and Izzy. If anything nasty shows up, give them a taste of Imperialdramon. Everyone else, lie low. If you've got a digimon in this world, stay together. Otherwise, just try not to attract any attention to yourself. We don't want to get caught unaware if this person attacks again." Cody stood tall and directed his eyes at each person he spoke about in-turn, but never expressed anything with his hands. It was a good plan. A really good plan, actually. If there was anyone who knew about the armor and the stones, it was Gennai.

Davis nodded, agreeing. TK could see a few extra gears turning in his mind.

"Just one question," Yolei raised her hand and asked. Everybody turned to her. "When do we start?"

Izzy checked the time on his tablet, "It's about five now. I can start checking the d-3s tonight."

"I have to go to the digital world and get Veemon. After that, though, I'm free," Davis said. So that was why Veemon hadn't attended this little get-together.

"I'm not," Ken spoke up. "I vote we start tomorrow. Bright and early. I'll meet you at your place, Izzy?"

"Me, too," Davis joined in. Izzy agreed.

"Okay then," Cody said. "If everyone's clear, we'll meet up tomorrow morning and get going. TK, I'll see you around ten?"

"Sure," TK said, and the group began to collaborate. TK gave Kari and Yolei the street corner where he'd fought the other angemon, and everyone, having figured out their jobs, made their way out. In the end, it was only Matt, Kari and Tai left in the room with TK. Matt's eyes were flinty and dark. Tai led Kari out of the room. Before she left, she gave TK a "be strong" look.

As Matt approached him, tall and looming like a living tree. He hoped he was strong enough. They stood across from each other for what felt like a very long time.

TK broke the silence, "Matt—" but Matt broke whatever he was about to say.

"What the _hell _is wrong with you?" He growled.

"I told you. I didn't have a choice! Patamon would have—"

"Shut up! You were attacked, TK! You were attacked and you didn't tell me! You called Sora, and you told _Kari_, but not me? What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Sora has a—"

"I'm your brother!"

_Oh…_

"Your brother, TK! You tell Sora and Kari and mom, but not me?"

"Matt…"

"I fought tooth and fucking nail to keep you safe in the digital world! And I watched from the sidelines when you got to play hero with Davis and the others! But…TK, I'm your _brother_. How do you not tell me something like this?" The anger in his voice was quickly shifting to something else.

"Matt, I didn't—"

"Didn't what? Think? You didn't think to call me? Maybe let me know that you almost died? What, you didn't think I'd care?" The anger was coming back.

"No, Matt. I didn't call you because I knew how much shit you're going through with Sora. I didn't want to screw with your head any more than it's already being screwed with." TK put a hand on his brother's shoulder. Matt looked down at his feet, took a deep breath, smiled and shook his head.

"Then you royally screwed the pooch on that one, bro," he said. He looked up into TK's eyes, "Look, TK. Fuck Sora, all right? That whole thing? Forget it. You come first. You have always come first."

The two brothers embraced.

"That being said," Matt continued with TK in his arms, "I'm moving in."

TK paused, "…Oh."

* * *

><p>Night was falling in the digital world as Davis jogged along the path through the Great Forest. What little sunlight remained painted the Western sky hues of orange and yellow. Davis could only see snippets of it through the trees, but something about sunsets in the digital world brought a smile to his lips. He'd heard once before, though he couldn't substantiate any of it with facts, that the pink you saw in the sky at sunset wasn't natural; that it was caused by years of pollution in the air. The fact that there was none of that pink spoke to the claim's truth.<p>

Then again, this was the world where creatures were born with jetpacks on their backs and the ability to fire lasers out of their eyes. So any correlations with Earth had to be taken with a grain of salt.

The sun passed from sight, leaving only the slightest bit of light in the sky. Most was dominated by the dark tapestry of night, and the tiny little holes where stars shone through. The moon was little more than a sliver, barely providing any light. It was peaceful, yet creepy. The cold of the night clung to his skin, raising goosebumps and forcing him into a run to stay warm. In the distance, through the trees, he saw the lights of Gennai's cottage.

Something appeared in front of him, maybe twenty feet ahead in the middle of the path. Whoever it was, they were definitely human, and he had a hunch that they were male. He could see pale skin and paler hair, falling around the person's face. A pair of green eyes flashed in the starlight. Davis slowed to a stop and blinked a few times. Had they been there a second ago? He didn't think so, but otherwise they would have just appeared out of thin—

_Oh, shit…_

Davis reached into his pocket and gripped his digivice. It wouldn't do him much good without Veemon, but it was heavy enough that he could probably weight his punches with it.

"You're the one who attacked TK," Davis said, not accusing. It was a statement of fact.

"Yes," the young man answered.

"He survived, you know, Patamon. Whatever your angemon stuck in his gut, he made it through just fine," Davis said, edging toward the woods. If he could make it in there, he would probably be able to make it to Gennai's cottage. Veemon was there. He'd stand a chance with Veemon.

"I knew he would survive before I even attacked, you fool. You think me a reckless barbarian, rushing into battle without already knowing the outcome?" He had a strange accent, this man. It sounded English, yet he trilled his R's like someone from the middle-east, and the cadence of his words was all wrong.

"You knew? Even with that _abysium_? How could you know he would survive that?" Davis edged again toward the foliage. The man's eyes followed him. If he cared that Davis was trying to escape, he didn't show it.

"You digidestined are so used to fighting the unprepared. It is actually rather amusing how little you know of this world, despite your victories over its darkness. You are like blind children, stumbling about without actually knowing anything about your surroundings."

Davis reached the foliage, "So are you just going to stand there all night insulting me? Or are you going to sic your angemon on me?" He didn't give the mysterious man a chance to respond, and bolted into the woods, heading toward the lights of Gennai's home. He stayed silent, so even if the man did come after him, he'd be harder to pinpoint.

Someone stepped out from behind a tree directly in front of Davis, blocking the light of Gennai's cottage. He ran straight into the young man's outstretched hand, warm fingers wrapping around his throat. The shock of the impact knocked his legs out from under him, and he could barely breathe. His digivice fell from his hand and hit the ground with a rustle in the leaves. The man lifted him up a few inches, so his feet just dangled. Davis struggled against the hand, but the man had a firm grasp. In the trees, the stars didn't illuminate his face as well.

But Davis was close. Whoever he was, this man was young. Maybe a year or two older than Davis. He had white hair, and pale skin. His cheekbones were high, and his nose hawk-like. His skin was smooth, free of blemishes or scars, and his bright green eyes still caught what little light shone through the leaves, and glittered. He would have looked regal, if he weren't holding Davis off the ground and strangling him with one arm. His lips curved into a half-scowl, his brows furrowing a bit,

"I do not need Angemon to kill a weakling like you." His grip tightened, and Davis could feel the man's pulse against his own. There was something in that pulse. With every beat, Davis could feel something leaking out of him; some kind of power. He tossed Davis aside, into a tree. He hit it hard and his shoulder lit up like fire. He let out a cry of pain and slid to the ground.

"But your blood is not worth my trouble, Davis Motomiya. Not yet. I came here to give you a fair warning. I will come for all of you. Each and every digidestined will face me, in the end. And if you do not rise to the occasion, then you and your world will die."

Davis looked up, but the man was gone. His shoulder felt like it was being torn off. He glanced over, and then looked away, biting his lower lip. A large lump under the skin that was his bone told him it was dislocated. He breathed hard, stood up, and stumbled around until he found a tree with a hollow he could use. He positioned his shoulder, took a few deep breaths, and stopped. With his free hand, he broke off a small branch and stuck it between his teeth. Again, he prepared himself, his breath coming in and out, in and out, in and out. He was hyperventilating, getting as much oxygen as he could and psyching himself up.

He jerked his leg up, rammed his shoulder into the hollow, and screamed a bloody scream. With a sickening _POP!_, his shoulder slid back into place and the pain began to dull a bit, but not much. He fell onto his back and moaned with the stick still in his mouth. It tasted like dirt, so he spit it out.

A drop of rain hit his forehead.

"Really?" Davis asked the suddenly-cloudy sky. It responded with another rain drop, this time hitting his arm. Davis simply groaned, "why the hell did he warn me?" His voice was hoarse from the paralyzing grip. Didn't warning your enemy kind of go against the whole point of being enemies?

"Unless he wants us to prepare for him. But why the hell would he want that?" He puzzled over the question as he sat up. The drops were quickly becoming a shower. And what was he talking about when he said that he already knew about Patamon surviving before the attack even happened?

With his good arm, he pushed himself up onto his feet and searched for his digivice on the ground. A speck of white amongst the darkness revealed its location. He snatched it up and set the gears in his mind a-turning. The sound of the rain hitting the trees created a nice noise-buffer for him to think, even if the drops hitting his head were a bit distracting.

This guy was giving himself away with every word. Davis knew that, he just had to figure out what he was giving away. He was smart; and not just tactically smart. He claimed to know more about the digital world than they did. That was something. He was familiar with the digital world. And he also claimed to know what was going to happen before it happened. Maybe he was psychic?

"A teleporting psychic with an angemon and access to deadly materials. That brightens things up a bit, doesn't it? It's not like that makes our job any harder or anything," he wheezed as he walked to the cottage, having exited the woods. He held his arm against his torso, to ease the movement and the pain.

There was something, though. Maybe he was cocky. He warned Davis, warned all the digidestined, really, that he was coming. If he did know the future, maybe he saw his own victory.

But that didn't seem right. Something about his last words contradicted that.

_If you do not rise to the occasion, then you and your world will die._

That suggested that they could win, didn't it?

Davis didn't know what to think. He reached Gennai's door and knocked. The rain was threatening to come down in buckets. If anyone would know, then it would be him. The wise sage had gotten them out of more than one jam. One could only hope that he would do so again.

Gennai answered the door, opening it a crack and peeking out before opening it all the way, "Davis. What's wrong? You look awful."

"Put on some tea," Davis said. "We have to talk."

* * *

><p>Kari lay in bed, twisting her digivice around in her hand, running her fingers across the not-quite-rubber grips on the edges. With her other hand, she rubbed her tag-and-crest like a worry stone. All the while, she stared at the ceiling of her room. A plain white, textured surface with a single light fixture in the center stared back. Gatomon sat at the end of the bed, cleaning herself in the way cats do.<p>

"There's got to be more we can do than just 'investigate,'" Kari said.

"Not really," Gatomon responded, ceasing her cleaning practice.

"Why? I mean, before, we never really 'investigated.' Did we? It was always just slam, bang, pow!" Kari punched at the air, the leather cord on the tag flailing about. "Beat the bad guy, go home, have dinner."

"Get up the next morning and do it all again," Gatomon turned toward her. "I remember the process, Kari. If you don't recall, I was the one beating the bad guys. And as much as I'd like to jump into the fray again, that doesn't seem to be an option, this time. We're not dealing with Myotismon, who made his presence more than known. We're not dealing with the Dark Masters with a big tower in the center of the world. We're not even dealing with the Digimon Emperor and his control spires; or even Arukenimon and Mummymon. In fact, we have no idea what we're up against. All we've seen is that he can disappear, he has an angemon, and he has access to Abysium. For all we know, he could just be some nut that happens to have access to dangerous minerals."

"Or he could be even more dangerous than MaloMyotismon," Kari mumbled.

"He could. But we can't know that yet. We've only seen him once, and just barely. We won't know more until TK and Cody visit Gennai."

"Why?" Kari sat up. "Why do we have to wait for them to visit Gennai?"

"What do you mean?" Gatomon twitched a single ear and tilted her head.

"I mean why can't we visit Gennai? You and I are a good team. And I've got my crest! Why can't we go to him, now?" She hopped up off the bed and began pacing.

"Because we weren't there during the attack. We don't know everything that happened. That's TK's department. Plus," Gatomon gestured to Kari's window, "It's dark. Night. As in, we should probably get some sleep so we can do our job tomorrow."

"Oh, come on, Gatomon," Kari said, walking to her closet. She slid open the door, found her laptop on the top shelf, and pulled it out. "Even if TK saw the attack, he doesn't have the information that you have; the experiences. You already knew what abysium was! You knew that Myotismon had a cache of it. That's already more information than anyone else had. Who knows what other information you have that'll be useful."

"No, Kari!" Gatomon stood up, her eyes wide and wild. Kari snapped around to look at her. "Kari, I only know that because of Myotismon. I only know that because he tortured me until I worked for him willingly, until I viewed him as…Kari, I do NOT want to go digging into those parts of my memory. It was more than a shock when Sora even mentioned the abysium." Tears were welling in her big, blue eyes.

"Gatomon, I didn't think. I—"

"No, you didn't. You have _no idea_ what he…" she clutched her paws close to her chest and closed her eyes. "…Kari, I still have nightmares. It's been almost seven years, and I _still_ can't get him out of my head." The tears spilled over and Kari set the laptop, her crest and her digivice on the bed before embracing her digimon. Gatomon wrapped her arms around Kari and squeezed tight, sobbing into her chest. Kari squeezed back and ran her hand down Gatomon's back.

"It's going to be okay," she whispered. She didn't know if that was true or not. Gatomon was right. They didn't know anything. And, in a way, that simple fact was even more frightening than any enemy they'd already faced.

* * *

><p>Davis and Veemon sat on the couch beside Gennai. Davis sat sideways, his back to the arm of the couch and his injured shoulder resting on the back cushion. Veemon nibbled on a cookie while they waited for the tea to steep. Rain no hammered on the cottage, reminding Davis of his date with Kimiko. He closed his eyes and could almost feel her hands, her lips, her tongue.<p>

"It's ready," Gennai said, and Davis banished his fantasy. He opened his eyes to Gennai pouring three cups of tea. He spooned some sugar into one and handed it to Veemon, giving the second to Davis and taking the third for himself. He blew some of the steam off and took a sip before saying, "so, what happened?"

Davis had to hold his tea with his good hand. The muscles in his other were shot until he could give it a proper rest. He took a sip and said, "I got attacked. By the same guy who went after TK."

Gennai froze, his eyes darting up into Davis's. He could see something there.

Davis relayed everything that happened today: the meeting, the decision, and his trip to get Veemon, including the encounter and the dislocated shoulder.

"What do you think?" Davis asked. "He sounded like he knew the future already, so I thought he might, you know, be psychic or something. Like a prophet."

Gennai set down his tea—having not taken more than that first sip—and stood up, "No. He can't see the future."

"Then was he just bluffing?"

"No," Gennai walked to the fire, facing away from Davis. "He can't see it, but he still knows it." He mumbled something else to himself that sounded like a curse, but Davis couldn't hear it. He set his own tea down and stood, holding his arm close.

"Who is he, Gennai? How does he know the future? How did he get that abyss-y-whatever? What aren't you telling us?" Davis saw something in the Watcher's eyes when he mentioned that he was attacked. It was fear. Gennai knew. He knew who they were fighting—what was happening—and it frightened him.

"He…I…" Gennai rubbed the bridge of his nose and bit his lower lip.

"Gennai, he threw me like a goddamn toy! He forced TK to give up his crest! Who the hell is this guy?"

Gennai remained silent for a minute or more before shaking his head, "No. I have to go. You can—you can stay here tonight, the both of you. I…have to go."

"No!" Davis shouted. He reached out a hand to grip Gennai's robe, to force the explanation out of him. As his fingers closed down on the cloth, though, it dissolved beneath them. Gennai teleported right out of the room. Right in front of Davis. He roared and punched one of the framed pictures on the wall. The glass shattered and the frame fell to the floor. He took a deep breath, bent over, and picked up the picture. It was old, worn around the edges with fading color. Gennai—younger than he was now—stood beside a young woman. They were holding hands in front of what appeared to be this cottage, only the garden wasn't there and everything seemed a bit more new.

He hung up the picture and turned to Veemon, who took a bite out of a cookie, his eyes on Davis.

"So Gennai knows shomething," he said.

"Yeah," Davis said. "Come on. We should get to bed."


	7. Ch 6: Questions

War of the Crests

Part 1: Light

-Chapter 6: Questions-

Davis woke on Gennai's couch, a thin blanket covering him and a throw pillow under his head. He sat up slowly. He'd never slept well on couches, no matter where it was. The fact that his right shoulder felt like it'd been run over by a train didn't help. He stretched out his neck, working out the kinks from the over-stuffed pillow. Outside, the rain was gone and sun poured in through the windows.

He yawned and began flexing his bad arm. He dislocated it once before, when he was a kid at a soccer match. If he'd learned anything from that experience, it was that you needed to work the muscle to get it back into shape. It stung with every movement, especially once he started rotating it, but he bore the pain. After maybe ten minutes of self-treatment, he stood up and walked to the back rooms, where he knew Gennai and Veemon slept.

Gennai's room was empty. Apparently, whatever had taken him away from the cottage was keeping him away. Davis was still determined to learn exactly what Gennai knew. But for now, he had places to be. He wandered to Veemon's door and knocked. No answer. He pushed the door open and found the little blue digimon asleep in his small bed. The walls were mostly bare, though he had a few pictures of his own hung up. Photographs and child-like drawings of the team and Gennai, as well as pictures of sunsets, landscapes and city skylines. Veemon was really a child of the world around him. He was one of the most adaptable souls Davis had ever met, comfortable no matter where he was.

A knock at the front door shifted his attention. Who was that?

"Oh shit," he said, reaching into his pocket. He was late, wasn't he? He grabbed his cell phone, pulled it out and checked the time. He'd learned in his many journeys to Gennai's cottage that, even if time sometimes flowed differently in the digital world, any clocks he brought with him would still function normally, and that way he was always able to keep track of the time in the real world.

The screen lit up and the numbers 8:45 told him he still had time. It'd take him maybe twenty minutes to reach the TV and get back to his world. Then maybe another half hour to get to Izzy's.

Okay, so he didn't have _much_ time, but he had time. He walked to the front door and checked the peep-hole. A shock of rusty-red hair over a tanned head told him it was that kid Tommy from the other day. Davis opened the door.

"Oh!" Tommy said, his too-blue eyes widening a bit. "Hey, man…Davis, right? Hey, I'm just here to talk with Gennai."

"He's not here," Davis replied. "He left last night. Didn't say when he'd be back."

"Creepy," Tommy said, then raised an eyebrow while narrowing his eyes. "Wait. It was creepy, wasn't it? What's the what, man? Where'd he go?"

"I'm not sure. I dropped by last night to pick up Veemon. Gennai and I had a discussion and he just…disappeared."

Tommy nodded, "he has been known to get teleporty when the mood strikes him, though he usually leaves a 'where.' Can we come in? It's kind of cold out here." He gestured to the small blue-green dragon at his side. Dracomon, Davis recalled.

"Yeah," Davis said, stepping out of the way. "Veemon's still asleep. And I have to leave in, like, fifteen minutes, though."

"It's all good. Just coming in for a warm-up before we head back out." Tommy and Dracomon walked in and stepped over toward the fireplace. The fire had died in the night, and only a couple coals remained in the graying ash. "So, what gave Gennai the wigs?"

Davis closed the door, "Come again?"

"There's no way Gennai would just leave the way you say he did without some kind of a freak-out. What exactly was the freak that shipped him out?"

"We just talked. I had an encounter with somebody and I thought he might know something about it."

"Being Gennai and all," Tommy said.

"Yeah. Anyway, we talked, he avoided the questions and just left." Davis kept everything important out of the conversation.

"I see," Tommy crouched and held his hands toward the coals and remained silent.

"What exactly does that mean?" Davis asked.

"It's filler, like 'wow' or 'huh.' Generally people say it when they're thinking about something." Tommy's tone changed. It wasn't nonchalant or light-hearted any more. There was a tinge of annoyance hidden in there.

"So what are you thinking, exactly?"

Tommy stood, rubbed his hands together, and said, "that the list of people who can get Gennai to freak like that is pretty damn small, wouldn't you say? I mean, it is a _person_ right? Not a digimon?"

"Pretty sure," Davis said, walking into the living room.

"How many _people_ do you think Gennai knows? And how many of those people do you think can get in his head like that?"

Davis was beginning to understand.

Tommy continued, "I'm guessing this discussion you had…it was about the identity of this person. You're not sure who it is."

"Yeah," Davis said, nodding a bit. "But Gennai does."

"Exactly. That limits our choices a bit, doesn't it?"

"But how do we figure it out? Where do we start? I mean, Gennai's probably met a lot of people over the years, right?" Davis asked.

"And how many of those people, do you think, are on this wall?" Tommy gestured to the photographs plastered all over. Davis gazed at it with new eyes. Those weren't just photos any more. They were research tools. He knew what this bastard looked like, and Gennai apparently had a relationship with him. Gennai's memories were all over that wall. It was his history in visual form.

Davis rushed over to the wall and began taking down pictures, one by one, whether framed or just tacked into the wood, "He's maybe a little older than us, and he's got silvery hair. And his face is…regal, I guess. And green eyes. Bright green." He said. Each picture he took that didn't have his target, he tossed to the floor. There were hundreds. Group-shots, landscapes, pairs and singles, humans and digimon, they were all here. Tommy began following his lead, though he stacked each picture in his hand until he couldn't hold any more and he took them to the coffee table. Davis started at the top-left and began working his way across until he hit the brick of the fireplace before jumping back to the edge. Layers of pictures came down, and before long he was standing in a graveyard of photo paper. He worked about half-way down and began uncovering something different. Another layer of photos beneath the first. They were sparse and old, but that might mean something. They were buried, after all. Deeper pictures, deeper memories, buried under the new ones. He grabbed at them as they revealed themselves. He saw a woman in one—she was familiar, though he couldn't place her. Another was of a young girl, maybe eight or nine years old. More of the woman. More of the girl.

There he was. Davis ripped away a picture of Tai, Matt and their digimon and there he was, staring back at him. Even with the browning color, Davis knew. The face was the same, if a bit younger. The hair was short, but still pale silver, and the eyes were green, almond-shaped, and piercing. He pulled it off an old, thin nail driven into the wall and stared. That was him.

"I got it." Davis said. "I found him."

Tommy turned and walked over to see the picture. The young man with the piercing eyes stood in the photo, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. He was wearing robes similar to Gennai's, and he held a digivice in one of his hands. That was definitely him.

"This is the guy that attacked me," he said.

Tommy looked up at him, "attacked you? You didn't say anything about being attacked."

"Yeah," Davis said. His voice was dreamy and soft. "He dislocated my shoulder. Warned me that he'd attack every one of us." He flipped over the photo. The name _Jacob_ rested in the bottom-left corner, next to a date.

The digital world had a different set of dates than the human world, for obvious reasons. They measured the year by seasons, not months. Their year was about the same, though, around three-hundred-sixty days. This was the year 845 AY (After Yggdrasil). The photo was marked 1522 PW (Post War). From his discussions with Gennai, he knew that PW shifted to AY some time around the year 1545.

That made this photo almost nine hundred years old.

"Oh, shit," Davis said.

"What?" Tommy asked.

Davis gulped, "This guy's an immortal."

A door creaked open at the rear of the living room, and Veemon stepped out of his room, yawning. "Davish, aren't we supposed to go back to the real world? Oh," he spotted Tommy, "hello."

"Hi, Veemon," Dracomon said, waving. The little blue guy waved back.

"So Gennai's not back yet?"

"No," Davis said, folding up the picture and stuffing it in his pocket. He looked to Tommy, "sorry. I…I have to go."

"Yeah. I do, too. I'll go with you," Tommy said. He motioned for Dracomon to head toward the door and they both began walking that way. Veemon approached Davis, staring at the scattered pictures.

"Davish, what'sh going on?" He asked.

"I think I just found out who's attacking us," he said. "Come on, I'll tell you on the way out."

Digidestined and digimon turned to the entryway and the front door. Tommy and Dracomon ran toward them. Tommy's arms were outstretched and waving.

"Get Down!" he shouted, and he leaped onto Davis. In mid-air, he watched—almost in slow-motion—as the entryway exploded. Fire and wooden shrapnel shot in every direction, and a wave of heat washed over him. He hit the floor hard, his breath rushing out of his lungs and his shoulder forcing out a fresh scream.

Tommy climbed off Davis and knelt beside him, offering a hand, "I think your guy might be back to finish the job."

* * *

><p>TK flew down the stairs of the apartment complex, taking them three at a time.<p>

_Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy Shit._

He hit the third floor running, grabbed onto the railing, and swung around to the next flight of stairs down. He was down to the second floor—Sora's floor—in two seconds. He charged through the door to the second-floor hallway and rushed down the hall. Two-sixteen. That was her room. He pumped his arms as he ran down the hall, sliding to a stop in front of her door.

_Holy shit._

He rushed to it, grabbed the handle with one hand and knocked like his hand was on fire with the other. With a quick twist of the knob and a shove with his shoulder, he burst into the room.

"Sora! You have to—"

…_holy shit._

Sora sat on a stool in front of an easel, a thick piece of charcoal in her hand. She wore next to nothing—just a bra and panties—and was covered in tiny charcoal stains.

"Oh, shit!" It wasn't her that shouted. A male voice emanated from the couch. Tai's big, brown eyes got bigger, and he dove behind the back of the sofa, attempting to hide himself. Sora jumped off her stool and positioned herself behind the giant pad of paper on the easel.

"Hi, TK," Sora smiled, though there was more worry in that smile than happiness. In fact, there was no happiness.

"…what the hell is going on, here?" TK's eyes flicked from the half-nude Sora to the couch where Tai hid, and back to her.

"TK, shut the door," came Tai's voice again. On instinct, TK obeyed, and the door closed with a small click that sounded more like a heavy smacking sound in the silence of the room.

"I ask again. What the hell is going on?"

Everyone in the room remained silent for what must have been an hour, but was actually only thirty seconds or so.

Tai crept out from behind the couch. TK saw he was shirtless, and had the same charcoal-marks all over his body and on his cheeks and temples.

It clicked, then. He'd walked in on his parents having sex—except it wasn't his parents.

"I thought you locked the door," Tai said, still staring at TK from his fort behind the couch.

"I did," Sora said back. "At least, I thought I did."

"Happens all the time," TK joined in the conversation. "Old locks in this place only work half the time. Try getting a chain." Wait. What was he saying? Tai and Sora were having sex! Why the fuck was he discussing locks?

"Oh," Sora said.

Another hour of silence passed. Tai stood up, leaving the shelter of his couch. He was wearing boxers. And only boxers.

"TK, look—"

TK put out a hand, "Don't. Pretty sure I figured it out already. The two of your are—" he looked to either of them. Sora bit her lower lip and nodded.

"Yeah. No shit. What I was going to say was 'don't tell Matt,'" Tai's eyes got stern.

Don't tell Matt? _Don't tell Matt?_ How dare he say that? Who the fuck did he think he was, fucking Matt's ex behind his back and then _telling_ TK not to report it? His face grew hot, his eyes narrowed, and he lifted a finger to jab at Tai as he berated him.

Sora stepped out from behind the easel, nearly naked, and the blood fled from his cheeks. He averted his eyes as she crossed her arms over her breasts and said, "Please, TK. Matt should know, but…not now. Not like this."

Suddenly, TK was more angry at himself than at either Tai or Sora. He'd stepped inside and totally forgotten the whole reason he was down here.

Looking at the dusty floor, he said, "Get cleaned up and come upstairs. There's something on TV. Something important." He forced himself to look up again. As they stood beside each other, he couldn't help but feel like he was the naked one. Even now, years after he'd saved the world twice, he still felt like they somehow had some kind of dominion over him. He looked into their eyes—first Tai, then Sora—and said, "you will tell Matt. Soon."

With that, he turned and twisted the knob on the door. Apparently the lock had decided to kick in when he rushed inside, and it wouldn't turn. He fiddled with it for a second before it finally worked and he stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

He took in a deep breath before heading back upstairs; walking, this time.

* * *

><p>Davis scrambled to his feet. Outside he could hear the whir of some kind of machinery. A faint, digital tone filled the air, raising in pitch. It was the same sound that lasers made in movies when they charged up to fire.<p>

"Come on! There's a window in the back we can use," Veemon said. Davis, Tommy and Dracomon followed him as he ran down the back hall into Gennai's room. Sure enough, on the other side of the bed sat a window. Unfortunately, it wasn't the kind that opened. Tommy rushed to it, taking off his coat and wrapping it around his left arm. He closed his eyes, put his right arm over his face, and swung at the window. With a crash, it shattered—just as the living room exploded into fire behind them. The force of the blast knocked all the glass outward, and Tommy hopped outside, redressing himself. Davis and the two digimon followed.

Outside, Davis saw his attackers.

Yeah, there were two of them.

Two huge reptilian, snake-like digimon with long tails and thick, muscled arms floated above the forest. One was red with a yellow underbelly and huge, purple wings. The other was all in shades of gray, its wings mechanical and boxy. They both had identical, three-clawed mechanical hands that appeared to function both as graspers and rocket launchers as well as thick, metal masks similar to those of MetalGreymon.

"Oh, look, Mega! They came out to play!" Said the gray one.

"My aim must be off," growled the red.

Like characters on Power Rangers or a Super Sentai series, Davis and Tommy both reached into their pockets and whipped out their digivices.

"Veemon!"

"Dracomon!"

The little machines shone and the digimon charged forth, leaping into the air.

"_Veemon digivolve to…"_

"_Dracomon digivolve to…"_

They changed shape in mid-air. Strangely enough, their forms changed almost identically. They grew, their bodies becoming thick and muscular. Tails grew, as well as wings, and their horns extended.

"_ExVeemon!"_

"_Coredramon!"_

They were even both blue and white. While ExVeemon appeared more humanoid, though, Coredramon's form was reptilian—no, draconic, with larger wings and a build more focused on flight and grappling than fist-to-fist combat.

Both digimon soared up to meet their opponents. ExVeemon stopped mid-way and unleashed a Vee-Laser toward them while Coredramon sped up in an aerial charge, his mouth wide in a roar and his claws outstretched. The laser impacted the red digimon and he recoiled a bit, but appeared mostly unaffected by the attack. The gray reached out its metallic claw and snatched Coredramon out of the air. The blue dragon, continuing its roar, released a gout of equally blue flame across the digimon's arm. Metal heated to orange and flesh blackened, forcing it to release him. With a flap of its wings, it backed off toward ExVeemon.

"Divide and conquer?" ExVeemon asked.

"Right. Take the red one down first," Coredramon answered. With that, they both shot off in opposite directions. The red beast put out its arms, spread its claws, and fired a volley of rockets toward ExVeemon. With two well-aimed vee-lasers, he shot them out of the sky and continued charging. The gray turned to Coredramon, spread its own claws, and with that rising tone, launched a pair of laser-streams toward the blue dragon. He brought his wings in close and spun in mid-air, dodging the streams while keeping his momentum. He hurtled toward the gray mech-dragon, who lunged forward with its claws to grab him out of the air. Like a trick pilot, Coredramon dodged under the attack and under the gray digimon's arm.

"_Strike Bomber!"_ He called out, curling into a ball and slamming into the red beast's back. It pitched forward, its eyes and jaws going wide. ExVeemon met it head-on—literally. He slammed his head into the mech-dragon's metal mask in his ever-signature Vee-Headbutt.

The mask cracked with the sound of tearing metal and the red dragon went to the ground in a heap. Its huge form let out a ground-shaking thud as it hit the earth; and a little more of Gennai's house crumbled.

Coredramon followed it down while ExVeemon fired a vee-laser at the gray dragon's back. Tommy's digimon hit the ground hard in front of the unconscious digimon's face. He heaved open its mouth, and inhaled. The gray digimon turned around just in time to shout,

"No! Mega!"

Coredramon loosed a stream of blue fire into "Mega"s mouth, waking it. The digimon rose into the air, screaming. With each howl of pain, blue fire leaked from its jaws. But the damage was done. Its torso began turning black, and then the fire burst through the skin, consuming it as it fell to the ground and evaporated into energy.

Coredramon and ExVeemon stood their ground, just looking at their remaining enemy.

He snarled and said, "I won't be the last, digidestined! You can be sure on that!" Davis thought that, if he had any legs, his tail would be between them as he left.

ExVeemon landed and gave Coredramon a high-three before they both degenerated to their rookie forms. Davis walked to meet them, a smile on his face.

"Still got it!" he shouted. Veemon pumped his fist into the air.

"So, uh…question," Tommy said as they rounded the front of what was left of Gennai's cottage. He pointed to the destruction. What had once been a garden, an entryway, and a living room was now black, charred rubble. "Does this count as our fault?"

Davis looked at it, "I…don't know. For some reason, I think that's how Gennai's going to see it."

"I guess 'sorry we let your shit get blown up' isn't going to cut it," Tommy said as he picked up a scattered piece of lumber and looked it over, turning it around in his hands.

"Probably not," Veemon said. "He liked this house."

Tommy tossed the lumber into the mound, "you go. I'll stay."

"What? No. We should both stay…or go. I mean, if Gennai comes back, he'll want to know what happened. But even if he doesn't, what if that guy brings friends?"

"I can be very fast when I need to," Dracomon said.

"He's not lying," Tommy said. "You have places to be. I don't. I'll wait for Gennai. If trouble finds me before his Watcherliness, then Coredramon can speed me out of here."

"You sure?" Veemon asked.

"Go. I'm good," Tommy said, waving them away. Davis jogged up to him and held out his hand.

Tommy took it and they shook.

"Don't die while I'm gone, okay? I'll be back once I'm done in the real world."

"And you don't die if I'm gone when you get back. Whether it's those things or Gennai that wants to kill you."

"Deal," Davis said before running off onto the path that led out of the forest, Veemon on his heels.

_I hope I'm not too late._

* * *

><p>"No way," Tai said, staring at the TV. "Just…no way. This can't be…can it?"<p>

"Sure looks like it," Matt replied.

Tai and Sora arrived about five minutes ago, each touting an excuse about how they were 'sticking together' like the group suggested yesterday, what with the teleporting madman lurking about.

_Sticking together. Does that count as a Freudian slip?_

"They started playing it about a half hour ago. They haven't made any demands yet and…I don't know. What are we supposed to do?" TK asked. "I mean, we could go in there, but they've got hostages."

"You will not!" TK's mom shouted from the kitchen. He cringed. Ever since the broadcast came on, she'd gone into freak-out mode. It was everything TK had told her about his car broadcasted on live TV. She'd been cleaning the kitchen for twenty minutes, and hadn't gotten past the floor—and their kitchen was pretty damn small. "This…this is something the police will handle, or the military. You and your friends are not to get involved."

TK would have told her that she couldn't control what his friends did, but it would have fallen on deaf ears.

A helicopter was panning over the area—a bank being the center of everyone's attention. Police cars surrounded the front of the building, as well as three SAT (Special Assault Team, think Japanese SWAT) vans. The camera cut to a reporter on the ground, who was standing behind one of said vans. She looked into the camera and said,

"Thus far, the robbers have not made any demands, nor have they alerted anyone of their intentions. Tensions are truly running high as the police attempt to open a line of communication with these strange, costumed criminals."

The cameraman moved to the edge of the van and peeked the lens around the side, aiming at the building. He zoomed in, revealing he criminals in question. A large group—maybe ten to twelve—of camoflauge-skinned dinosaurs moved around behind the glass. They each wore dark military fatigues, complete with helmet, and strange, mechanical boots. In their three-clawed hands, each held a big, black M16 assault rifle. To accompany it, they wore a set of grenades on their chests. Most of the group stood with guns aimed at hostages, while a few others stalked the windows, watching the men with guns outside. The news called them costumes, but just looking at them, everyone in the room—even TK's mom—knew what they really were. Digimon.

Digimon that were, apparently, robbing a human bank.

TK had already received texts from Kari, Ken, Yolei and Izzy regarding the situation. Nobody really knew what to do.

The camera turned and they all got to watch as several black cars pulled up. Interpol? Two black-suited, sunglasses-wearing G-men got out of each car and began moving around the area, talking with members of police and SAT. One approached the camera crew and flashed a badge, demanding that the camera be shut off. The reporter argued, but a couple of his friends approached and soon enough, the camera turned off, cutting the feed. It picked back up in-studio, where a reporter informed the populace that Interpol had arrived and forced all crews out of the area, including their helicopter. He assured them, however, that they would continue covering the story from the studio, and would alert everyone with whatever news came in.

A knock on the door drew everyone's attention. TK got up and opened it. Cody stood there, his expression blank as ever. His eye shifted as he glanced inside, then moved back to TK, "so everyone's heard, then?"

"Yeah. Come on in, man." TK stepped aside and let Cody in.

"Hey," he said to everyone, and "hello, Ms. Takaishi." He bowed to TK's mom, who smiled and continued to clean.

"So what do you all think?" TK asked as he closed the door.

"Do you think it's connected?" Sora asked "To the attack on you, TK?"

TK sat down on one arm of the couch and sighed, "I don't know. I mean, it's not like I got to talk to the guy and find out if he's a fan of military dinosaurs." He gestured at the TV. "I couldn't say if this is his _style_ or not. I don't know. The whole situation's hard to figure out. I mean, digimon robbing a bank? A human bank? What do they need human money for?"

"And even if they did need it, why Yen? Hell, why Japan? Why Tokyo?" Matt asked. "Isn't Japan, like, the digidestined capitol of the world?"

"Unlikely, but you've got a point," everyone turned to Cody. "Even if these digimon were to need money for whatever reason—maybe there's a human guiding them—Japan is the worst place to attack. Not only are currencies like the Euro more valuable, but like you said, Tokyo has _us_. And any digimon who can get to this world to rob a bank probably knows not to mess with us."

"So you think they're after something other than money," Tai said.

"I don't think they're after anything at all. I think whoever sent them is trying to send us a message." He said, standing behind the couch. Again, his arms didn't move as he spoke, merely sat at his sides.

"And what kind of message is that?" Matt asked.

"That we're not safe," Sora said from her position on the countertop in front of the kitchen. Her eyes were wide with realization.

"Exactly," Cody confirmed. "Whoever sent them wants us to know that they have access to both firepower and the means of getting digimon to our world."

"Definitely something to be scared of," TK said, turning back to the TV.

The reporter said the words "Breaking News coming in from the bank robbery" and everyone else's eyes followed.

He had his finger to his ear, and he said, "I'm receiving word that…oh…my God. Ladies and…ladies and gentlemen, I've just received word that the robbers have…have executed the hostages and…killed themselves. Apparently they…" he continued to explain that the digimon shot the hostages and then blew themselves up with their grenades, without firing a single shot at the gunmen posted outside. SAT snipers were able to hit a couple of the digimon, but it was already too late. His face had turned white, and kind of green, and his eyes were wide and downcast as he gave the report. The entire room was silent as the digidestined and TK's mom watched the broadcast.

If this was the man who'd attacked TK's doing, and if his intent was to scare them…

…he succeeded.

* * *

><p>"I'm here because he had abysium! And not just a sliver of it, but enough to make a whole spearhead!" Gennai shouted at Tyron, who stood with his huge arms crossed over his huge chest. He was already furious, and the heat emanating from the Forge wasn't helping his mood.<p>

"And I already told you that I have no way of knowing how he attained it!" he bellowed back. "If you're accusing me of giving it to him—"

"Do you think I'm an idiot, Tyron? Of course you didn't give him any! But there's only one damned person in this world I can think of who might know just _how_ he got his hands on it!" Gennai snapped. "And just how in Yggdrasil he was able to handle it without killing himself!"

"I don't know, Gennai. I don't know. He's not a crest-bearer and he doesn't have access to the Forge. I couldn't tell you how he ended up with enough abysium to make a spearhead, much less how he fashioned it. Nor can I tell you how he made armor out of gold digizoid, or inset it with chunks of noqual! I haven't seen him since before he left. Maybe you should _find_ him and ask him yourself!" Tyron argued. And damn him if the old Smith wasn't right.

"I don't have to," Gennai said, closing his eyes and calming himself. "Damn me, I don't have to find him."

Tyron stopped and narrowed his eyes, "what do you mean, Gennai?"

"He's been to see her. His sister," Gennai said, his eyes still closed. Dark memories bubbled forth, but he forced them back down into the recesses of his mind.

"Little Elle? He's visited her? How can you know that?"

Gennai flinched a bit at the hidden accusation in that question: _how can you know since you've never visited, yourself?_, "The digidestined who he spoke to…he mentioned knowing the future."

"So he's been translating the prophecies," Tyron said. "Gennai, if reading those prophecies has driven him to things like abysium…you must speak to her."

"Damn you. Damn you, I know."

The memories came forth again. This time, he made no effort to suppress them.

* * *

><p><em>A young girl screams in the rain, trying to struggle out of Gennai's grip. She's only six years old. Only six, over a thousand years ahead of her, yet condemned. She screams and howls as the rain pounds on their heads. Gennai is forced to squeeze tighter and tighter as she struggles. He knows he's hurting her. He knows she just wants to go home. He knows, but still walks toward the cathedral.<em>

_It's called a palace, but it is a cathedral. Nerina said so, before she died. She said it was beautiful, like the cathedrals of her world. Gennai had never known it as anything more than horrifying. It was a place of death—of endless torture. And he was forced to leave this little girl here._

"_I didn't mean it!" she screams._

"_It's not my fault!"_

"_Jake said he's okay! It's okay!"_

"_Stop!"_

"_Why are you doing this?"_

"_Why?"_

"_Stop!"_

"_You're hurting me!"_

"_Let me go!"_

"_Stop!"_

_His body trembles as he reaches the massive door. Even under the eaves, the rain is as heavy as ever._

"_I want to go home!"_

_Gennai raises a hand and pounds on the door. Just once. Once is all that is needed. He probably couldn't muster a second, even if he needed to._

"_I want to go home!"_

"_Where's Jake?"_

"_Let me go!"_

_The door opens. Slowly. Ever-so-slowly. An old digimon with a wrinkled face looks out at him, then at the little girl. The old digimon's eyes widen and its jaw drops._

"_It has happened?" the old digimon asks._

_Gennai tries to say 'yes,' but can only nod._

"_To me, then, child," the old digimon says, reaching out with old, wrinkly hands._

"_No! No! Who are you?"_

"_I want to go home!"_

"_Daddy, I want to go home!"_

_Gennai chokes on those words. _Daddy, I want to go home!_ The old digimon takes the little girl from his hands. She's screaming._

"_Daddy! Daddy, don't leave me!"_

"_Daddy, I want to go home!"_

_Her words disappear as the door closes. Gennai's tears burn hot on his face. He raises his arms and pounds on the door. Again and again and again, he slams his fists against the solid wood until the bases of his hands begin to bleed._

"_Elle!" He screams._

"_Ellie, come back!"_

"_Elle! Elle, please come back!"_

_He slides against the door, falling to his knees. Tears mix with rain._

"_Elle…please."_

_It is the last time Gennai sees his daughter for a thousand years._


	8. Ch 7: Pain

Well...I think it's been over two moths. I have a bit of an explanation, but I'll wait 'til the end of the chapter to give it to you.

* * *

><p>-Chapter 7: Pain-<p>

No one was allowed near the bank. Yellow tape with the words "Do Not Enter" spanned the entire area, cutting off the entire street. Most of the businesses around the bank were shut down, and several black Interpol cars lined the perimeter, with men in black suits and wearing black sunglasses walking around, talking to each other. Forensic scientists had been called in during the day, though no one knew why. The only answer anyone got when they asked about the situation was "Interpol is investigating and cannot reveal details at the moment."

When night came around, however, the cars cleared off for the most part. The G-men continued their patrols, but there were far fewer than during the day, and if they could believe their eyes, most of them were asleep in their cars. Kari, Davis and Ken watched them from a dark alley across from the bank. They were all three dressed in black, from the tops of their heads to the bottoms of their feet. Ken looked through a pair of binoculars at the cars.

"What's up? Can we get past?" Kari asked.

"It looks clear from here, but these don't have night vision, so I'd wait for Gatomon to get back," Ken replied, lowering the binoculars. He also shifted the strap of his shoulder bag, which contained a tablet computer that Izzy gave them.

Kari looked from him to Davis, who was leaning against the wall of a building, staring at a piece of broken glass on the ground. He'd come back earlier—after the whole "digimon terrorist" thing had happened. He got to watch re-runs playing all over the TV, though nobody had actually caught the gunfire or blasts on camera. In fact, this was all of their first times seeing the building after everything went down.

On top of that, Davis got to tell everyone a trifecta of terrible stories. First, he got attacked by TK's attacker the night before—news that came with its own baggage, such as a warning that he was going to attack every one of them, as well as implied knowledge of the future; combined with that was the dislocated shoulder, the effects of which he was still suffering. Second came the news that Gennai was hiding information from them. Not only did he leave Davis and Veemon alone after denying them information about his attacker, but Davis had apparently found a photo on Gennai's wall, buried behind others, that pictured said attacker. The group passed it around at their mini-meeting once he returned, and everyone got a look at both him and the name written on its back: Jacob. Their enemy had a name. Jacob.

And third on the list of bad news was that of an attack. Two digimon apparently took on Davis and another digidestined: Tommy, who was attempting to visit Gennai. They took out one of the two, and sent the other running, but not before half of Gennai's house went up in flames.

Things were not going well for Davis.

And now he was staring at a piece of glass which was, itself, a reminder of something even more horrible. He pursed his lips as he stared at the glass, and Kari could swear he was on the brink of breaking down entirely. She wanted to reach out a hand to comfort him. She wanted to tell him it was all going to be okay. But that would be allowing him his breakdown, and right now they needed to keep level heads.

"Hey, Davis," she said, and he broke his gaze and looked to her. "You going to be okay?"

"Yeah," he said. "My shoulder's not too bad right now, I'll be able to handle myself."

Not what she was talking about, but she let it go. Somehow, she thought he understood what she was asking, and had given an affirmative without giving away his…fragility.

A moment later, Gatomon dropped from one of the buildings above them, landing with nary a sound. She'd been the only digimon they brought along, since she would be able to scout ahead without being noticed.

"You're back," Ken said. "Good."

"What did you see?" Kari asked.

"There's two agents smoking behind the bank. The rest are asleep. If we go now, and don't make too much noise, we should be able to get in quick without anyone noticing," she replied, her ears twisting to each member of the crew before her eyes met their own.

"Good," Ken said, sheathing the binoculars in a leather case on his hip, "then let's get in there."

The four crouched and strode across the parking lot as fast as they could while keeping silent and avoiding any street lights (of which there were few). Within a minute, they were up the stairs and inside the building, stepping around glass and bloodstains. All the bodies had been moved, but everything was still riddled with dust, glass and blood. Little triangular, numbered signs littered the ground, sitting over spent shell casings or blood stains. Their goals were near the back of the building, behind the counters. The only sounds in the entire room were those of their footsteps. Without too much effort, they reached the counter and slid behind it. There, a line of five computers sat waiting for their tellers. Ken reached into his shoulder bag and pulled out the tablet, booting it up and plugging in a two-ended USB cable. While it loaded, he went to each computer and started them with gloved fingers. Luckily, the power to this area hadn't been shut off. Each computer loaded, and by the time the first one was done, he was ready.

"So, what? You just run the program and plug it in?" Davis asked.

"That's the idea. Izzy said that it'll be able to tell if a computer's been used to access the digital world. If it has, we should be able to figure out where these digi-saurs came from, so we can get there ourselves," Ken plugged the USB cable into the bank computer and accessed a program on the tablet. The screen turned black and white code scanned by for about ten seconds. At the end of the code, the words NO ACCESS informed them that this computer hadn't been used. Ken disconnected and shut off the bank PC before moving onto the next. More code, and another NO access. He followed the same procedure and moved to the third. The code flew by on the screen, and after ten seconds, the words ACCESS: FIND LOCATION? lit up at the end.

"Paydirt," Ken smiled. He brought up the keyboard and hit Y. More code flew by.

A metal-on-metal sound made them all freeze in their celebration. A second sound followed it—the sound of a striking wheel on a lighter—and a moment after that, they all heard,

"Find anything interesting back there?" The voice was male, probably someone in their mid-thirties. "I sure hope so, because our guys haven't been able to find a damn thing."

Footsteps—and the sound of breaking glass underfoot. Whoever this guy was, he wasn't concerned with the crime scene.

"Honestly," he said. "I thought you'd get here sooner. But I guess "look before you leap" is famous for a reason, isn't it? Then again, people also say "he that is over-cautious will accomplish little." If you guys had taken a little less time seeing the sights and a little more trying to get inside," he stopped talking for a moment, and the sounds of others walking reached Kari's ears. "Then we probably wouldn't have spotted you standing in that alley."

Kari looked to Ken, Davis and Gatomon. Everyone wore the same look, _Oh shit._

"I expect you're damn close to getting everything you need from those computers. Am I right?"

None of them responded.

"Look, kiddies. None of you needs to get hurt here. Give yourselves up, and we can probably work something out."

"What do we do?" Davis whispered. "There's no way out except the front door."

"Wrong," Ken said, a smirk on his lips. He unplugged the tablet from the bank computer, the program unfinished.

"What are you doing?" Davis asked. "We won't get a location."

"You're right. But we'll get to keep our lives. Get out your digivices."

Kari already had hers in-hand. Davis followed and before long, all of them were aiming their devices at the tablet screen.

"Digiport—"

"Damn! Get them!" The man shouted.

"—Open!" The screen turned bright white, and Kari felt herself begin to fall forward, into the little computer. As her vision turned white, the sounds of gunfire filled the air.

* * *

><p>The palace…was just as he remembered it. Over a thousand years had passed since he'd looked upon these doors. His memory of them, in fact, felt more like a far-off dream than an actual memory. He reached a hand out toward the heavy, rune-laden wood of the doors. He felt the place where he'd pounded his fist against them so long ago. He jerked back as if stung, biting his lip. Why was he here? He hadn't come to see his daughter for over a thousand years, and now that he finally arrived here—literally on her doorstep—he had nothing but questions for her. Questions about Jacob.<p>

What kind of father was he? Leaving her here so long ago, and never seeing her again? He was some kind of monster.

_She had to come here—it's the way things are supposed to be. She has the gift._

Gift? No. It was not a gift. Cliché as the phrase might be, Elle had been cursed. A curse that not only harmed Jacob, but forced her into this place.

_No. I forced her here. I could have kept her home—kept the gift a secret._

So what right did he have to come here now?

_None,_ he thought. _I have no right…but I must know. Jacob has done something—discovered something that has forced him to attack the digidestined, and this is the only place I can find the out what he discovered. Elle is the only one who can tell me._

And with that, he pounded on the door, so similar to his poundings a millennium ago. A moment later, as it had before, the door slid open and revealed a hunched old digimon. She had gray hair pulled back in a bun and bangs that fell over her eyes.

"Lord Watcher," she said, "you have returned."

Gennai could not speak. The force of the memory was too much. He had to place a hand on the door so as not to lose his balance as he relived that night. Yggdrasil, how she'd screamed.

Screamed for him to stop.

Screamed to go home.

Screamed—

"You are here to see the Scribe, then?"

Gennai came back to reality—back to the present.

"Yes," he managed, though his voice cracked as he spoke. The frail old digimon stepped back and put out a hand, welcoming Gennai into the cathedral. He stepped inside for the first time.

The entire structure was voluminous. Huge gothic walls rose up to incredible heights, ending in fantastic, arched architecture that held up an incredibly large ceiling. Huge windows let in beams of light, illuminating the insides. Twelve gargantuan pillars helped to hold up the ceiling, stretching from expansive marble floors. Along the walls, below the windows, sat shelves—thousands of scrolls lined the shelves, stacked atop each other. The wooden shelving extended into the palace thirty feet on either side, and at least twenty feet up. Gennai stood in awe. Long tables lined the center of the room, where several digimon sat, "reading" from the scrolls. Gennai knew that none of them actually contained words. Each one would contain a strange picture—or several strung together. Each one was a story, and for a thousand years digimon had come here to try and decipher those stories—to discover whether the events portrayed within them had already come to pass, or were yet to happen. For each scroll was a prophecy, an event. None truly knew whether they were events that would come to pass or events that had already occurred, not even the Scribe.

Not even Elle.

Except someone thought they'd cracked the code.

Jacob thought he'd cracked the code.

The old digimon led Gennai past the tables to the back of the hall, where only one person sat.

A girl. Young—she appeared to be somewhere in her late 'teen years. Long brown hair flowed in waves from her crown, falling across her shoulders and framing a somewhat-round face with beautiful, perfect lips, a small nose and small blue eyes. She sat eating a meal composed of fruits, vegetables and berries.

If she were blonde, then she'd look just like her mother—all but for the eyes. She had Gennai's eyes. She looked up as he approached and gazed at him for a bit before returning to her food. She hadn't the slightest idea who he was. He could see it in her eyes—or rather, he couldn't see it. There was no recognition. He was just one of the immortals. For a moment he wondered if she even knew that her father was the Watcher.

"Elvierre, my lady Scribe. You have a visitor," the digimon said.

Elle smiled, "Thank you, Baba." The old digimon bowed and stepped away to monitor the scroll-readers.

Gennai tried to say hello, but his throat didn't work.

Elle saved him the trouble, "Hello. I expect you're another of Jake's friends?"

Gennai sat down and looked at the table. He found it much easier to talk to the table than his long-lost daughter who hadn't a clue in hell who he was. "Actually," he said, "I came here to ask you about him."

"Really," a voice behind Gennai said. It was male, and just deep enough to be the voice of a boy of seventeen or eighteen. But its speaker was far beyond that. He was over a thousand years old—the same age, in fact, as Elle.

"Jake!" Elle cried, a smile lighting on her face. "This man just asked about you."

Gennai turned around, his breath caught in his chest. The young man behind him had a hawkish nose and high cheekbones. His jaw line flowed into a strong, pointed chin. Long platinum hair fell around his face, a bit falling in front of his right eye. The eyes themselves were a beautiful, shining green, yet their expression was one of outright contempt and fury.

"So I heard, Elle," Jacob said, looking down at Gennai. He must have shifted inside. "Then maybe, since he's asking about me, he should go straight to the source. What do you think, father?"

* * *

><p>Kari tumbled out of the TV and fell on her face, dirt and grass scraping against her forehead and cheek. With a moan, she pushed herself up onto her knees and wiped the dirt away from her eye before surveying her surroundings. Everything was dark, but she could see that they'd arrived at the forest that housed what was left of Gennai's cottage. She figured it would be a perfect place for them to regroup before returning to the real world. She shook off the shock of the entry and looked around at her companions. She counted them by instinct. Gatomon, Davis…<p>

She looked again, standing and surveying all around the TV. Gatomon and Davis. Just Gatomon and Davis.

Ken didn't make it through.

Suddenly, the gunfire Kari heard before she went through seemed very real and very frightening. Gatomon sat up and began cleaning herself. Davis let out a heavy moan and rolled onto his left side, curling his legs up into his stomach. She remembered, then, his dislocated shoulder. She rushed beside him and helped him up into a sitting position. He held his right arm tight against his torso and groaned,

"Damn thing's never going to heal right if we keep this up."

"Is there anything I can do?" Kari asked.

"Did you bring an ice pack or some Icy-Hot?"

"No," she said, knowing that he already knew the answer, and was just being a smartass.

"Then I guess we're out of luck. Help me to my feet, though?" He requested. She took his left arm and helped him stand. He glanced over at her for a moment, blinked as if confused, then asked, "Wait. Why did you help me?"

"Because I'm your friend," she replied, not sure if she should be confused or angry.

"No. I mean, why didn't Ken help me?" he looked around, still hugging his arm to his chest. His eyes searched the field around them, and around the TV, but he came up as empty as Kari had mere moments ago. He looked to her, his eyes a bit wide,

"Where's Ken?"

"I…don't know," she said. "I think he might have gotten left behind."

Davis just stared at her for a good five seconds. She could see the wheels turning in his head, processing everything. Then, "We have to go back."

"Davis, we can't."

"Bullshit we can't. Get your digivice. Gatomon, we're going back!"

"Davis, no!" Kari grabbed his arm as he began raising the d-3 toward the TV. His muscles flexed beneath her hand. "Davis, I heard gunfire before we went through."

"No shit, Kari! Why in the hell do you think we're going back? I am not about to let Ken get shot because we decided to pull some dumbass stunt!" He jerked away from her and aimed the digivice at the TV.

"Digiport—"

"No!" Kari shouted. She lunged forward and grabbed his right shoulder, gripping tight with her fingers. Davis let out a loud scream of pain and dropped the digivice, his left hand jumping to free his shoulder from her grip. She let go and he stumbled away, nearly doubled over in pain.

"Son of a bitch, Kari!" He shouted. Gatomon ceased cleaning herself and glanced through the night at the two humans, her eyes wide. "Why? Why would you do that?"

"To keep you from getting killed, idiot!" She shouted.

He growled a bit through his teeth, attempting to curse away the pain. Kari continued before he could get a chance to rebut,

"Don't you get it? Gunfire, Davis! As in bullets. As in flying metal projectiles that _kill people_. And you don't have Veemon."

"You have Gatomon!" He shouted back, going for his digivice on the ground. She kicked it away and stood in front of him. He glared at her, his brow furrowed and his mouth downturned in anger. "And a digivice! And a fucking crest! I think Angewomon can handle a few _guns_, Kari."

"But what about us? Jesus. Think, Davis! We go back through and then what? We don't exactly have all the space in the world behind that desk, do we? There's nowhere for us to hide out of harm's way when the lead starts flying and Angewomon starts taking care of them. We go through, Davis, chances are that we get shot." Kari berated. Davis turned around and began walking away. Kari waited for him to stop and turn back, but he didn't. He just trudged on toward the forest. Kari looked to Gatomon, who was already walking after him. Kari jogged toward him, slowing to meet his stride when she caught up. He didn't say anything, and his face never changed as she glanced over every minute or so. If he'd been on the brink earlier, before they entered the bank, she didn't know where he was now. His lips were pursed, his brow wrinkled, and his eyes hard, staring ahead at the dark forest. His hands went from open to a closed fist over and over again, as if he had to move every part of his body, not just his legs.

What was he thinking?

She knew...she was thinking the same thing.

_What if Ken's Dead?_ _And if he is, what does that mean?_

He probably wanted to punch her—knock her out and rush back through the TV. She didn't blame him. She almost wanted him to do it.

But that wasn't an option. They'd fucked up, but that didn't give them an excuse to do it again by rushing back in like idiots. She knew it was her responsibility—as the one with the digimon in this situation—to protect him; even from himself.

They passed into the forest, onto a well-worn path leading through the trees, yet still mostly under the canopy. About a hundred feet onto the path, Davis turned and walked into the woods. Kari followed. Where was he going?

Maybe twenty feet off the path, he found a tree and leaned against it, sliding down until his knees nearly touched his chest. His face had changed. His lips were still pursed, his brow still tense, but instead of manly stoicism or anger, they exuded fear and melancholy. His eyes were no longer hard, but darted from place to place, as if he were searching for something impossible to find. He wrapped his arms around his knees and she saw the first tears begin to fall. Davis wasn't a blubbering, heaving crier. He was quiet, shaking a bit but, otherwise, if it were raining you probably couldn't tell the tears from raindrops.

She knelt in front of him and took his hands. He looked up at her, opened his mouth and croaked out,

"What…if he's…dead?" Each word was a struggle.

Kari opened her own mouth…then closed it. What could she say? What if he was dead? What did that mean? She didn't know. She didn't say anything. She didn't tell him it was all going to be okay. She didn't lie. Why had they gone to that damn bank? Why had they not taken their digimon? She bit her lower lip as she felt her cheeks begin to warm. Her vision wavered a bit as tears welled in her own eyes.

What if Ken was dead?

Kari, unlike Davis, was an awful crier. Ever since she was a kid, she would heave and howl like a baby. She gripped Davis' hands tighter as she shook with sobs, her entire body wracked with the act. Her head fell and she pressed her forehead against their clasped hands, her muscles tense. She bit her lower lip again, trying to hold back more wailing sobs, but she couldn't. Davis leaned forward, and she felt his own forehead rest against the crown of her head as he cried with her.

Kari didn't know if it was a moment of weakness or a moment of strength. Whichever kind of moment it was, in that moment she leaned up, and so did he. Their eyes never met, but their lips did. Kari didn't know how long they kissed, and she didn't care. She simply closed her eyes, let the tears fall, and let herself kiss and be kissed. It wasn't until TK's face flashed in her mind that she jerked back, falling to her elbows and said, in tandem with Davis as they stared at each other with grief-sober eyes,

"Oh, shit."

* * *

><p>"Father?" Elle asked. Gennai didn't look to see if she was confused or angry. He was too busy staring at his son. Jake stared back, his eyes narrow. Near a thousand years, and still he couldn't forgive.<p>

Then again, neither could Gennai.

"Father?" This time, her tone was a bit higher, a bit darker.

Angry. She was definitely angry. He tore his eyes from his son to Elle. Fire burned in her eyes and she bared her teeth, standing. Her food was forgotten.

"Father!" She screamed at him. "How _dare_ you show yourself here?"

"I—" he tried, but couldn't speak. There was definite recognition in her eyes, and it mixed beautifully with the fury.

"Get out!" She shouted, pointing toward the door.

"Elle, I—"

"You don't have the _right_ to say my name!" She swept her plate off the table and it shattered on the floor. Gennai stood up, gathering what strength he could as well as gathering himself to his full height.

It wasn't much taller than either Jacob or Elle.

"Fine," he said. His voice quavered, but at least he was speaking. "I will take my leave, Lady Scribe. But first, I would like to speak with my son."

"You will not—" Elle's voice rose as she prepared to berate him, but Jacob raised a hand and she silenced.

"Do not worry about it, Elle. I will speak to him outside." He moved that hand in a gesture toward the great doors at the front of the palace.

Gennai walked away, his daughter's eyes burning a hole in the back of his skull as he went. Jacob snapped his fingers as he followed, and an Angemon emerged from behind a shelf of scrolls to follow them. Gennai still remembered the day they discovered that Jake had a digimon partner. It wasn't long after that he left. It was like a walk-of-shame, his slow trek to the front of the building. The old digimon that Elle had called Baba opened the door to let him out. The moonlight shone in full glory upon them as the doors closed.

"So what questions do you have?" Jacob asked. Gennai turned to face him, and was again struck by his face, and his eyes. It was like the past rushing up to meet him. Memories, both good and bad, threatened to overrun his mind. He forced them away, pushing forth, instead, the task at hand.

"Jacob—"

"There are very few people, in any world, which I allow to speak my birth-name. You are not one of them," he said. It stung like a slap in the face. How had he alienated them so, that they would harbor such hatred toward him?

"Fine," said Gennai. "The abysium. Where did you get it?"

"Ah. So he did go to you. I had wondered how his angemon would survive."

"So, you read his survival in a scroll?" Gennai asked.

Jacob smiled, "Indeed I did. And to answer the first question, I retrieved the abysium from an abandoned castle somewhere on Server. I believe it belonged to a digimon named Myotismon at some point. Lucky for me, your 'digidestined' were willing enough to get rid of him so that I could get what I needed."

"But how were you able to handle it? It would take the power of a crest to keep from infecting yourself. For that matter," Gennai gestured to the armored Angemon standing behind Jacob, "how does he _wield_ it without endangering himself?"

"He's able to wield it because of the gold digizoid armor, and the noqual stones set into it. As for myself—" The island shook, as if struck by some massive object. Gennai almost lost his balance, and Angemon steadied Jacob with a hand on the boy's shoulder.

The water just off-shore began to shift, moving in a circular motion very slowly. As time passed, it picked up and birthed a whirlpool.

"What in the world?" Gennai asked.

Jacob didn't respond. Something began rising from the whirlpool. First Gennai saw long, white tentacular arms, then a black-masked head with three eyes and a mouth filled to the brim with sharp teeth. A long, lanky body followed, covered in the same black as the mask. The creature's arms—both the tentacles extending from its back and the arms extending from its shoulders—ended in wide, many-clawed "hands". It looked from Jacob to Gennai and began laughing.

"I come for the Scribe and I find the Watcher as well. The Dark Lord will be pleased." Its voice was thick and muffled, thanks to its teeth and the fact that it apparently used gills instead of lungs.

Jacob stepped forward and put out an arm, "You will go no further! I will not allow you to harm the Scribe."

"You would order me?" The dark creature chuckled. "Laughable." One of its tentacles rose and swung down. Angemon rushed forth, throwing Jake out of the way and summoning his Staff. He blocked the strike just as it came down, but the massive blow forced him to his knees. The hand at the end of the tentacle was near as large as Angemon himself, the creature being at least ten times his size.

Gennai backed away from the beach, finding himself against the building. What in the world was happening? First Jacob attacks the digidestined, then he reveals that he's been working with abysium, and now some dark digimon comes to attack Elle?

The huge digimon lifted his tentacle, but raised both of them for a second strike. Angemon pushed off from his knees and charged the beast, the abysium-laden point of the staff-spear directed at its chest. With one arm, it swatted him aside. He tumbled into the water, creating a huge splash. Threat dealt with, it swung both tentacles toward Jacob. They appeared to hit, and Gennai let out a "No!"

A split-second later, Jacob appeared in front of the doors, as if he'd been there the whole time. He shifted. Yes. Of course. He wouldn't let something like that just happen to him. Of course he shifted.

"You will not harm her!" He shouted.

"You won't stop me," the beast replied. It stepped forward, lumbering out of the water. The island shook with each step. It raised its tentacles, preparing to bash in the doors to the palace. Jacob stood his ground.

"No," he said. "I will stop you."

Then something happened. Something on Jacob's chest began to shine like a star. Gennai stared at it, not quite believing his eyes.

How had he missed it? Had he been so distracted by the fact that Jacob was _there_ to realize that there was a crest around his neck?

"Angemon!" He shouted.

The angel digimon burst out from beneath the waves, and began to shine with the crest.

"_Angemon digivolve to…"_

A fourth set of wings grew from Angemon's shining body, and the shape of the armor grew and reconfigured, evolving with him. His staff shrank into his hand, and the hilt of a sword grew in its place.

"_MagnaAngemon!"_

The light faded and he floated behind the beast, coated in gold-and-white armor. He pointed the sword-hilt in his hand toward the tentacled monster and a long, green, translucent blade extended from it, glowing with concentrated energy.

"So you're not done yet," the creature said. It turned back to Jacob, "There's more than one way to defeat a digimon."

One tentacle darted toward Gennai's son. He charged toward him, arms outstretched, and tackled Jacob to the ground.

MagnaAngemon, at the same time, darted forth, blade drawn back, and he cut through the tentacle as if it weren't even there. It continued through the air, propelled by its momentum, but disintegrated into green energy before striking the doors. The beast let out a painful howl and recoiled, taking a few steps back into the water.

"That blade! How did you do that?" It shouted.

MagnaAngemon didn't speak, only raised the blade and charged the dark creature, sword first. He drove it into the beast's skull, and with another reverberating scream, it burst into energy. A moment later, he landed and degenerated back into angemon.

Gennai looked from the digimon to his son beneath him, then to his son's crest, hanging limp around his neck. It was white as snow, and the runes carved into it—

"No." Gennai said.

Jacob shoved his father off him and climbed to his feet.

"No. How did you get that crest, Jacob? That's not possible."

Jacob brushed himself off and looked at Gennai, "Fate demanded it, father." Angemon walked to his partner and, in the blink of an eye, they disappeared.

Gennai tried to say something, if only to break the silence. Instead, he concentrated on the Forge—on Tyron—and prepared to shift. He had to know.

How could Jacob have the crest of Light?

* * *

><p>Ken's shoulder hurt where the tranquilizer dart hit him. His eyes fluttered open, and he watched a man in a lab coat take a few steps away, holding an empty syringe. Some sort of awakening drug to counteract the tranquilizers, then? He continued to scan the room with his eyes. It was like every interrogation scene in every bad movie ever. A small, dark room with a single light hanging over a table in the center. Ken sat in an uncomfortable metal chair on one side of the table, his arms and legs cuffed to it, and an empty chair sat on the other side. The white-coat-clad man looked at Ken and turned around,<p>

"He's awake."

He exited through a metal door on the far wall, behind the empty chair. No doubt, some sunglasses-wearing agent would take his place, sitting across from Ken to ask some very loaded questions. And, no doubt, national security would be on the line. Ken chuckled to himself.

_At least I'm not dead._

He could only vaguely remember what happened. He remembered pointing his d-3 at the tablet and saying "digiport open." He also remembered the sounds of gunfire, a sharp pain in his shoulder, and flying backwards as Davis and Kari escaped into the digital world. He remembered looking over and, instead of a gunshot wound, seeing a small dart embedded in his skin. Things got fuzzy from there, but he remembered shouting and being carried before everything went black.

Whoever these guys were, they definitely weren't cops, or Interpol, or any other organization he'd ever heard of. They knew what was happening when Ken and the others started opening the portal, and shot to capture, not kill.

Sure enough, after a few minutes' time, the door opened and a blonde man walked through. He wore a suit and a pair of sunglasses. His hair was a bit shaggy for an agent, but Ken didn't judge. He sat down across from Ken, pulled out a cigarette and zippo lighter, flipping it open and lighting up before clicking it back closed and taking a long drag. He released the smoke out his nose before taking another breath and beginning.

"Ken Ichijouji," he said.

"Let me stop you there," Ken said. "This is the part where you say 'your file says you're a good kid,' right? Then you list my accomplishments and ask me what I was doing sneaking around the bank?"

"Actually," the man said, "I couldn't care less what kind of kid you are. I don't give two shits whether you're an honor student or a crackhead. Give us the information we want, and we'll let you go. Don't, and we put you away until you cooperate." Ken recognized the voice. It was the same man who had talked to them in the bank.

"Well then," Ken said. "Ask away."

"The attack on that bank. What do you know?"

"Just as much as you, I'd guess. A group of digimon took the place hostage, then blew it up." Ken watched the man as he spoke, to see if there was any kind of reaction at the mention of digimon.

There was none. That confirmed his suspicions. Not only did they know about digimon, but they knew that he knew. Apparently, they had also guessed that he'd figure out that they knew. There was no reaction at all. He just took another drag from the cigarette. As he released the smoke, he said,

"And?"

"What do you mean, 'and'? I told you what I know." Ken said.

"What were you doing there?"

"Trying to figure out where the digimon came from. You came in, and we tried to flee into the digital world. You opened fire, I didn't make it through. That's the whole story," Ken explained. "Now, can I leave?"

The man took a third drag from his cigarette, put it out on the table, and said, "No. I said 'give us the information we want. Not 'what you've got on-hand.'" Smoke billowed with each word. He stood and turned to the door. "We're done here. Knock him out and ship him off to the box."

"Hey! Hey, you can't do that! I'm a Japanese citizen! This is kidnapping!" He shouted, struggling against his restraints. The 'doctor' from before entered with a big, muscular agent. The blonde agent pulled out his cigarettes and put another in his mouth.

The big man held Ken down while the doctor produced a syringe full of a blue liquid. Ken struggled, but the big man was too strong. The needle pierced his shoulder and the doctor injected the fluid. Immediately, Ken's vision began to fade. He watched as the blonde agent lit his cigarette and left the room, followed by the doctor and the big man. Alone and strapped to a metal chair in a dark room, Ken's vision faded to black.

* * *

><p>I have some bad news. No, the story isn't going to end here. I'm still writing it, but certain events in my personal life have put this story on the back burner, and I don't think it's fair for me to string my fans along without letting them know the plan. My plan is to write this story when I can, but I don't plan to post anything else (except for a single new chapter in <em>Sins<em>) until the whole thing (_Light_, not the whole of _War of the Crests_) is complete and edited. I don't know when that will be, but I can assure you that it WILL happen. I am still writing, if sparsely, and I will finish this story. I can't NOT finish this story. It's something that's been in my mind since I was young, and it needs to get on paper and out to you.

Because without you, I wouldn't be anything. Peace, my friends. I will be back. Hopefully sooner, rather than later.


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